


Adore You

by Moonblastbitch



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harrowhark Nonagesimus Goes To The Ball, F/F, Fluff, Grinding, Marriage Proposal, her divine highness has a BONE to pick with the reverend daughter, little kid gideon, no beta we die like cavs, someone has a case of the LONGINGS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonblastbitch/pseuds/Moonblastbitch
Summary: Her Divine Highness has dreamed for years of the Ninth, including its Lady. When her father arranges a ball for the House heirs she finally gets the opportunity to meet with her obsession face to face.
Relationships: Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 279
Kudos: 219





	1. Nothing But Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this WIP sitting in my google docs for far too long! So, just to take a break from Orchids in Ink for a second have a ball!AU!!!!!!! Full of longing and skeletons!!!! It'll be my backburner fic while I try to finish up some other fics that have been hanging out for forever!  
> Thank you again to my darlings in The Peoples Tomb discord for prereading this! You are my life!

Her Divine Highness had always had a fascination with the Ninth house. It was where she was found after all. Not a day old and swaddled up in an organ transplant case, dropped down on the heads of a bundle of confused nuns, along with her birth mothers deader-than-dead body.

Gideon the First had found her quickly, and by some communication efforts she wasn't sure he’d ever had, convinced the denizens of the Ninth house to release Gideon (The Remix) into his care. When she was a kid, and her father had for some unknown reason found it necessary to transplant her from the First House onto the Mithraeum (usually for months at a time) she would find Gideon (Original Flavor) and force him to tell her every detail he could remember. Not about her mom, or her rescue, but of the House of the Sewn Tongue.

Why did her mother want to go there anyway? According to her caretakers the Ninth was a cold mausoleum full of bones, bones and more bones. But her mother had done everything in her power to get her to that very spot. Was she running away from her dad? Did she want to raise Gideon in the secret shadows of the Locked Tomb? More than anything Gideon wanted to go there and see the planet for herself.

But her father made an oath long ago to never visit the Ninth, under any circumstances. And he considered Gideon to be a part of that oath.

“It is just a forlorn tomb at the edge of the system child.” Her father had once said to her over tea and biscuits. “I really don't see your fascination. Here, have a bikkie.”

But that was her dear old dad's problem really. He never saw things outside of his own narrow view. Gideon Gauis-Prime, Her Divine Highness and Precious Heir to the Lord Undying had attempted to escape to the Ninth house eighty-six times by the time she was eighteen. She started when she was four. 

-

Gideon had a sword. It was a giant, glorious thing that she’d polished every day right before she went to sleep. Pure black and ancient, yet brimming with vitality. O.G (Old Gideon) had procured it from the Ninth for her eighth birthday as a curiosity, thinking she’d get bored with it like she got bored with everything she messed with for more than a half hour. But to her namesakes great shock, she demanded he give her lessons. To his further surprise she actually kept up with them. 

Nevermind that the longsword was bigger than her entire body, Nevermind that every time she lifted it she almost collapsed. She had a hunger to use that great big beautiful thing like nothing she’d ever felt before. So her caretaker had done the only reasonable thing and taught her how to wield it without slicing her own face open.

“I’m only doing this so you’ll stop bothering me.” Gideon (Numero Uno) told her when she finally managed to weedle him down. 

She remembered smiling so hard her jaw hurt when she finally managed to land a blow on him, a good three years into her training. It bounced off like nothing, because Lyctor duh, but Gideon glowed with pride for a week over it. Her swordmaster hasn't said much about it, but he did rub her head after their lesson and that tiny bit of affection alone had her giddy.

Among all of her caretakers, if you could even count the others among the Emperors brood, Gideon the First, her namesake and finder, was most certainly her favorite. He didn't sugar coat things like her dad, didn’t mock her for her inexperience like Mercymorn, didn’t dismiss her like Augustine, didn't politely placate her like Cytherea, didnt stare at her with a blank, smiling nothingness like Teacher. He was gruff and hard but also honest. He listened to her talk for hours, not saying a word. It was no wonder he was assigned to be her primary caregiver, splitting his time between the First house where Gideon lived, and the Mithraeum where her father and his Lyctors resided. 

But most important to Gideon, he let her talk to him about the Ninth house. 

-

She knew from a very young age something bad had happened at the Ninth. A sickness that killed off most of the children, except for one little girl. The Reverend Daughter of the Locked Tomb. When she’d gotten big enough to understand the gravity of what it must have been like for her, left alone amongst a bunch of old weirdos, she begged her father to let her live there. But time and again he refused her. 

It boiled at her blood like nothing else. The thought that some girl, just a year younger than her was all alone in some quiet corner of the system made her ache with loneliness. She wanted to do something for the girl whose circumstances were so much like her own. She wanted to go to her with her great big sword and proclaim that she was in the care of the Empire, that she never had to be alone. But anytime she so much as suggested a visit she was shot down.

It was her number one caretaker who handed her a pen and a paper one day when she was six. “Practice your letters. Once they’re good enough I’ll let you write to the Reverend Daughter.” He said in his low, scary voice. 

She was so excited she tore through the paper three times. But her penmanship improved greatly in a very short time. Every day Gideon presented her practiced Alphabet to her namesake, who looked it over with a critical eye, pointing out mistakes here and there, never quite approving of her work. For a week straight she went to bed with a sore hand, until the day he looked at her paper, barked “Good enough.” and handed her a fresh set of First House stationary, adorned with her name.

Gideon wrote and rewrote her letter to the Reverend Daughter until it was five pages long. Teacher gave a little laugh when she handed him the overstuffed envelope, and asked her who it was for.

“For the Ninth house Teacher! For the Reverend Daughter!” She announced proudly.

“Yes but what is her full address, young one? Her name and title?”

Gideon had no idea actually. “Uhhm….?”

Teacher gave another of his cheery little chuckles and sat her down. “Spell this. H-A-R-R-O-W-H-A-R-K, that's her first name, N-O-N-A-G-E-S-I-M-U-S, that's her last. Harrowhark Nonagesimus! What a positively Niner name.”

Gideon went to bed that night rolling the syllables of her name over her tongue. She pictured a girl her age who could have a name that big. Did she like it? Would she like her? When would she get a letter back? She let those thoughts lull in her skull as she fell asleep that night, glowing with happiness.

-

Months went by and Harrowhark Nonagesimus never returned her letter. Gideon was sad, but not sad enough to stop sending them. She made a stubborn habit out of it in fact. Once a month, after her usual exams with Teacher, she’d sit down and write a letter to the Ninth. Some were short, some long, but each one positively bled with one question. ‘Will you ever write me back?’

It wasn't all bad though. She started writing to the other house heirs. The Fifth house in particular was a favorite, with Abigail Pent’s maternal southing filling her heart with a deep longing for a woman who was merely bones now. She liked the Sixth too. Palamedes was good fun and occasionally he would add in bits about his cavalier, a scary sounding girl by the name of Camilla. Those little letters were all Gideon had of the world outside her island. 

She cherished every scrap of flimsy like precious jewels and horded them in a box under her bed. Years past and her collection grew, notes from every single house but one stacked together. She had, from her own little corner of the galaxy, carved out friendships from ink and papyrus. It felt to her like more of a miracle than anything her father had ever managed to perform.

But still the Ninth house never called on her. 

-

Gideon had just been caught in her eighty-sixth escape attempt when she was told her father had a mission for her. 

“He wants you to get hitched.” Gideon (Classic) told her beat-to-shit body as he patched up a particularly bloody spot on her leg. She tried cliff diving this time, trying to reach one of the shuttles that sat on the edge of Canaan House. But all she got for her troubles was a few bruises, more scrapes and a sore ego.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Were that I was. He wants to gather the house heirs here for a couple weeks. Then you’re supposed to pick one.”

Gideon sat up, hissing as the bruise on her coxis made itself known. “I haven't spoken to the old man for, what three years?”

“At least.” Gideon (Part One) said, wrestling a bandage over her wound. 

“And now he wants me to play diplomat and pick a spouse from a pile of necromancers?”

“Basically.”

Gideon was almost impressed at her fathers ability to assume fidelity of her. “Why the hell should I? What's in it for me?”

But oh of course there was one thing that would always have Gideon jumping to her feet no matter what, and her namesake knew it. Her swordmaster turned his eyes to her, his hard face a mask. “The Ninth heir has already agreed to come.”

Gideon felt her heart stop. “Seriously? Nonagesimius is coming?” 

He nodded. “Along with her cav and a retainer. And the rest of the heirs, though I doubt they’ll get a second glance from you.”

He was probably right. Gideon’s mind reeled. Why now? Why after all this time? A part of her wanted to rage but the other part was too damned thrilled to care. “Will I be able to actually talk to her? Like… alone?”

“Dunno.”

“Aren't you in charge of this thing?”

“Nah, that's Teacher. He’ll give you the details. Buck up kid, you’re done.” He said, slapping her freshly bandaged shin. She tried kicking him but he, as usual, dodged swiftly.

“So like… Why marry me off? The old man just wants an excuse to throw a party or something?” She asked, following her swordmaster out of the room.

“No idea.”

Gideon huffed. “Do you know anything?”

He glanced down at her and sighed. “Look. You’re getting a ticket off this rock. That's all you need to know. Go ask Teacher the rest.”

Teacher, as it turned out, was about as useful as a bucket of piss. He prattled to her some long winded explanation of ‘unification of the nine houses’ and ‘spreading the glory of the King Undying’ but that all sounded like bull. All she needed to know was 1. Harrowhark Nonagesimus would be there and 2. She’d been storing up over a decades worth of angst she’d get to release on the Ninth Nun in two weeks time.

Teacher had mistaken this unbridled enthusiasm for obedience and happily got to work fitting her for all kinds of fancy suits. There would only be two balls. One on the first night to get everyone acquainted and one on the last night as a combination farewell and engagement announcement. Gideon had not thought much about the act of actually getting married. More that it was just a means to an end for her. Worse case scenario she’d have to hijack a shuttle out of the system. But she’d worry about that later.

-

The day of everyone's arrival Gideon was kept locked up in her rooms. The locks were purely symbolic, as she’d been able to pick everyone one of the two hundred something doors since she was eleven. But Teacher had insisted he wanted her to see everyone fresh faced and rested the day of the ball, and gently reminded her that if she didn't stay in he’d tell her father she’d chosen Silas Octakiseron as her spouse. That threat was enough to keep her put.

Or at least, normally it would be. But Harrowhark was down there! Harrowhark Nonagesimus! Each shuttle had helpfully been painted with a stripe across it in designated house colors, and Gideon jumped up when she saw that flash of coal-black against steel through her window. She was too high up to be able to distinguish any features from those landing on the terrace. But her latest escape attempt had her pretty adept at climbing down steep things, and she used the knowledge to her advantage.

There was a good bit of the terrace completely shaded by overgrowth that she hid in. She covered her bright hair with the hood of one of Gideon’s (Episode One) big impressive looking robes and her brighter eyes with an old pair of sunshades she found utterly delightful. Not like he ever wore them anyway. Her mentor admirably only wore things that showed off his bonkers huge muscles, which she herself aspired to. But today was not about bragging, today was about stealth.

Gideon sucked in a tight breath when the black striped shuttle finally opened. Three people exited the shuttle. One absurdly large man she assumed must be Ortus the Ninth, a peg legged old lady who looked like a sick-badass and a small girl. Gideon cursed herself for her choice of hiding place. It was just close enough to see the outlines of the people, but not enough to make out the fine little details she craved.

All of them wore painted skull masks and dressed in horrible blacks that stuck out against the blues and greens of Canaan house. The two servants circled Harrowhark Nonagesimus like hungry ravens as Teacher started his myriad long introductions, ushering them all into the great hall. One by one the other houses followed… except for the Ninth. 

“Come now my Lady.” The old woman said to the young.

“I won't go. You cannot make me.” Her voice was high and raspy, with a dignity of tone someone as young as her should not have earned yet.

“Now now Lady Harrowhark. You know what the Reverend Mother said. This is our last chance. At least try to be friendly.” The man droned in a pitiful voice.

“It's ridiculous. Dragging us to an unpopulated planet to meet with Her Divine Highness for marriage arrangements? There's no need for all this pomp and circumstance. Something is going on here and I intend to find out what.”

Gideon was a little bit offended and a little bit amazed. Ten minutes on planet and she’d sussed out something that Teacher had spent weeks planning around. 

“Be that as it may my lady you should still play along. We have a goal here.” The old woman said testily. Harrowhark opened her mouth to say something, then shut it.

“Just- Just give me five minutes alone. We were in the shuttle far too long and I need to stretch my legs. I’ll join you shortly.”

The two retainers looked at her, then each other, then back to her in disbelief. “I give you full permission to drag me back if I take any longer than my allotted time. I just- I would like to be alone. Please.”

The old woman sighed and waved the man she presumed was Ortus along into the hallway, leaving the Reverend Daughter to her own devices. Gideon felt a whirlwind of emotions. Should she go introduce herself? Play up some contrived ‘Oh hello! Didn't see you there!’ meet cute? Before she had time to consider her options a skeletal hand ripped her from her post in the overgrowth and she was face to face with the object of her twelve year long obsession.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn't see you hiding in the brush?” Harrowhark Nonagesimus looked hard and regal this close. She was even smaller than Gideon had originally estimated, at least a foot shorter than she was, made even smaller still by the huge billowing robes she wore. Her eyes were dark black holes, big and a little bit scary on her skull painted face. Gideon was unmoored. Gideon was delighted. Gideon had absolutely no idea what she’d just asked her.

“Uh?”

Harrowhark rolled her eyes and gave her a once over that was more perfunctory than flattering. “You’re a member of the Emperors guard then?” She asked with an annoyed edge to her voice, pointing at Gideon’s stolen robes.

“...Something like that yeah.” She said after a long pause. Harrow tilted her head, an action that was unfairly adorable considering she had her locked in a skeleton’s embrace.

“Then why hide? Why all the staring?”

“I.. I didn't think you could see me. Sorry I just- I’ve never met someone from the Ninth. I was curious.” Gideon spluttered out.

“So let me get this straight. You abandoned whatever post you have inside of the facility to stare at the sacred members of the devout house of the Ninth like we were some circus performance; Am I understanding you correctly?”

Well shit. Hard to argue with that. But Gideon had argued with Mercymorn the First most of her life. She could do this. “It's more like I wanted to see some insane bone magic.”

Harrowhark furrowed her brow and Gideon wanted nothing more than to smooth the wrinkle with her thumb. “Why?”

“Because I hear the Reverend Daughter is the best. And I want to fight the best.” Gideon said, puffing up her chest.

She looked aghast. Gideon supposed not a lot of people on the Ninth were keen to spar with the dead but she didn't think she said anything that weird. “You want… to fight some of my constructs?” She asked with a light, somehow more uneasy voice. 

“I mean. Yeah, basically.” And ask about seven million questions, starting with ‘why won't you answer my god damned letters bitch’ and ending with ‘can you please let me flop my tongue against yours’.

Harrowhark was quiet for a moment, studying the terrace around her. “I have exactly three more minutes before my retainer comes to fetch me. In that time I can raise three dozen skeletons. Lets see how many you can take out.”

Gideon blinked at her, then grinned viciously and pulled her longsword out of its scabbard on her back. “Yeah? Bet you I can take out at least twenty before the timers up.”

Harrowhark gave her a smug little half-smile. “You’ve never fought my constructs before.” And without warning the Reverend Daughter dropped a handful of bone chips on the ground and the match began.

She was right. Gideon had never fought constructs like hers before. The constructs of her House were first and foremost domestics. They were well made, but woefully unequipped to give Gideon the knock-down drag-out fight she craved. Harrow’s were not as sturdy, but they were fast and hit hard. She had to lunge first or get a bite taken out of her by the ambitious brood. Luckily Gideon was very, very good at lunging.

The fight was brutal to the point of criminal. Gideon felt her teeth knocking in her head and knew Teacher would give her an earful later. The cut she’d gotten two weeks prior was reopening with one skeleton latching itself onto her leg like a damned dog. She kicked the offending thing, steel toed boots rendering the oss broken and useless. She sliced her way through what felt like an endless number of the horde and felt viciously satisfied. This was the best fight she’d had in years. No stopping, no holding back. Just Gideon smashing the ever loving shit out of some bits of calcium.

A stray glance at Harrowhark had her realizing they were on the same page. The Reverend Daughter was covered in a film of blood sweat, panting wildly. She had an untamed look to her eyes, like a lion released from the cage. It was terrifying. It was beautiful. Gideon needed to see more.

She slashed again at the mass of skeletons that were such ankle biting little shits. Then at the assholes trying to grab at her arms. Then just before her lungs gave out on her the last skeleton between her and Harrow smashed against her jaw. She gritted her teeth and did the decidedly less impressive move of curb stomping the mother fucker to death. 

In the wake of a thousand tiny bone shards, there stood her and Harrowhark, bloody and panting. She had a thin layer of blood sweat soaking through her skull paint, red ooze pouring through her ears. Gideon couldn't remember a day she’d had before that had been this good. Before she even knew what she wanted to say, her big dumb mouth opened.

“Marry me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did we like my first departure from Tattoo!AU? Good? Bad? Tell me in the comments! I'm not sure when I'll be able to update this next but I'll try my best to get it out as soon as I can!  
> Also... for those who noticed, Gideon and Phyrra switch who is talking to Griddle at any given time. Tell me if you can tell whose who in the comments!  
> 


	2. Lovesick Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all ready for five straight chapters of pining!!!!!! And a romantic garden rendezvous :D

Right after the words left her mouth Gideon got punched in the face. It wasn't a very good punch, coming from a puny little necromancer, but it sure shocked her. She’d spent a decent chunk of time around necromancers, they were not the throwing hands type. But apparently Harrowhark was, a fact that thrilled her to her core.

Oh right. She just asked her something pretty important, didn't she?

“Woah! Thought we finished fighting?” Gideon asked, holding her hands up against the barrage of tiny fists coming at her.

“How dare you! How very dare you say such foul, nonsensical things to me! Do you think I am some kind of joke that you can entertain? Is that what the First House has become?” Harrowhark asked, fury tinting every word she said.

Gideon grabbed both of her wrists, forcing her still. “Wait wait wait wait wait. Who said I was-”

“Kid.” a voice grumbled behind her. Leave it to her namesake to be a total good time ruiner.

“Oh fuck.”

“Who-”

“Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus I presume?” Gideon (Pre-Crisis) asked, somehow managing to sound both flat and bemused.

Gideon looked over her shoulder and glared at the man behind her. “Really? You had to show up now?”

He pointedly looked between the two of them, and at the hands Gideon had wrapped around Harrowhark’s wrists. “Dunno what to tell you kid, you broke the rules first. You seriously couldn't wait three more hours?”

Harrowhark looked between the two of them, skeleton face alight with shock. “Explain to me who this is and what the hell is going on this instant or I’ll scream for my retainers!” She demanded, looking so fucking cute Gideon was gonna melt right there. God she was even better than she imagined.

“Uh well about that-”

“Get your hands off my lady or I’ll slice them off.” A gravelly voice said behind her. It was the old woman who came with the rest of the Ninth House. What was with retainers and terrible timing today?

“Excuse her. She’s excited to meet some new people today.” Her swordmaster explained, motioning to Gideon to let Harrowhark go. She (quite unwillingly) complied.

“I don't know what the First House does with its royalty, but on the Ninth those who grab at our nobility get executed first and questioned later.” The old woman said, rushing to Harrowharks' side.

“I’m sorry about that. The brat is tough, but not very mannerly. Gets that from her dad I’m afraid.”

A look of understanding overcame Harrowharks face and Gideon’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “It's fine. We must rejoin the rest of the group for our tour.” 

“My lady-”

“It's fine, Aiglamene.” She said again, much firmer this time. “We’ll be taking our leave. Let's put all this unpleasantness behind us, shall we?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, the nunlet turned around with a great swish of black fabrics and moved to the hall, her retainer following closely on her heels. The Gideons waited in silence, the younger staring as Harrowhark walked further and further away. “Holy shit, I’m in love.”

Gideon the Elder scoffed once and slapped her on the back. “I’ve known that since you were six years old.”

-

The First House was a cursed place, Harrow thought to herself as she watched Ortus slowly unravel his mess of vestments, placing each item neatly in the spare drawers. Harrow hadn't bothered. It's not as if they’d be there much longer.

“Don’t pout my lady, it's unbecoming of you,” Aiglamene said to her.

“I’ve been on this wretched rock for an hour and I’ve already been accosted, stared at and propositioned! I cannot think of a better circumstance to pout in,” Harrow argued.

Ortus looked back at the two of them. “Propositioned?” He asked delicately, likely praying he wouldn't have to defend his mistresses honor. Harrow hoped he wouldn't have to either. Judging by the way that woman took down her constructs, Ortus would last half a minute at best.

Aiglamene rolled her eyes. “One of the guards has a daughter roaming around. She and the Reverend Daughter had a little skirmish.”

Harrow felt her face burning with embarrassment at the memory. She’d been utterly captivated by the way that woman had swung a sword, so much so that she’d let her guard down. They were in uncharted territory and she’d let herself get pulled into some ridiculous spectacle by a muscular moron! It was so unlike her to be so careless. “She was bored and made a joke in poor taste. Luckily her father and Aiglamene were close by. The matter has been settled Ortus, you can go back to being a cavalier in name only.”

The big man breathed out a sigh of relief and continued unpacking. Aiglamene directed Harrow into the bathroom, so excessively large she couldn't help but judge. Who needed this much space to wash and relieve themselves?

“Get ready. You’ve got two hours,” Aiglamene commanded, voice as hard as iron.

“I have no idea why my parents ever agreed to such a thing in the first place,” Harrow muttered.

Aiglamene raised one eyebrow. “You know why,” she said, leaving the room and letting the auto door shut soundly behind her.

Harrow huffed and sat at the vanity where she’d put her paints. Her mother had been insistent she give this… terrible matchmaking game her best attempt, for the good of the Ninth. While she understood her reasoning, she was no beauty and Her Divine Highness was more likely to ask the dying Dulcinea Septimus for her hand than Harrow’s. So while she placated her mother by saying she’d participate, she formed her own plan.

It was by no means elegant but it had a far higher success rate than that of her managing to seduce a princess. She was going to track down the highest ranked official in Canaan House and make her case for the Ninth’s dire need for supplies, people, and birthing units. She would sing their undying support for the Emperor until she was hoarse if that's what it took. And everyone knew it was the Lyctor’s, the fingers and gestures of the Kindly Prince that had all the power in the First House.

That plus her innate necromantic skills should net them enough sympathy for a charitable donation for the Ninth House. From there she could convince her parents to open the planet back up to pilgrims and maybe right some of the wrongs done in her name. It wasn't enough, it would never be enough. But it would do for now.

Harrow glanced up at herself in the mirror and flinched. She was a poor sight, drenched in blood sweat and greasepaint hanging off her malnourished cheeks like a melting landscape. She had no idea why that woman- she shook her head. Stupid jokes made by innane idiots were not her concern right now. Her concern was getting herself presentable. 

Harrow stood up, stripped off her clothing and went into the sonic, begging her mind to stop straying unnecessarily to the woman in the combat gear.

-

Two hours later Harrow was holding the bed frame, her corset laces being methodically tightened by Aiglamene. Once she’d passed inspection on that front, her retainer helped her step into an ancient gown likely owned by Anasasia herself judging by its wear. She involuntarily winced at the sight of an unnoticed tear towards the back of the dress. “Aiglamene, we’ll need to sew that up.”

The old woman nodded in agreement and passed Harrow a needle. She sloppily knitted the seam back together, praying to the tomb it held for the rest of the night. Harrow planned on leaving right after they got what they needed, so the dress could go ahead and fall apart the second they returned to the Ninth for all she cared. “It’ll be fine now. Come, we don’t have much time.”

Aiglamene quickly buttoned her up, straightening the collar of her gown with a critical eye. “You’ll do well,” she told her assuredly.

Harrow stiffened at the comment and brushed past her retainer. She looked like a graveyard wraith in that ancient dress, but that was just fine with her. The Ninth House had a reputation in the galaxy, who was she to dissuade it?

Ortus met them at the door to their chambers, his rapier bouncing idly at his hip. It struck her then how much he looked like a cavalier of the Ninth. Certainly no one would mistake him for Mattius Nonius come again, but he did manage to hold himself with some dignity, for which she was very grateful. All she had to do was get through one night without him quoting the Noniad and they’d maintain their reputations.

“You look nice, my lady,” he said in his droning voice.

“I should hope so. Come along, we must get there before Her Divine Highness makes her appearance,” it would be madness once the princess was announced. Best discuss business matters when everyone was still calm, before the wine began to flow.

-

“Teacher, you know I think you’re a funky little man and I love you to bits, but I’m not apologizing for this,” Gideon said to the funky little man in question through the mirror while she dressed. 

Teacher sat at her cluttered desk, trying his damnedest to look sternly disappointed in her while she pulled on her pants. “Gideon, you made me a promise. You said you wouldnt go peaking at anyone until the ball.”

Gideon fussed with her shirt collar, “No, you said that. I said ‘uhhhhh yeah I’ll do that’ with my fingers crossed behind my back. Makes the contract null and void y’know.” 

Teacher let out a little giggle, “Be that as it may, you weren't supposed to do that. You know I don't like punishing you, I’m so very bad at it.”

Gideon grinned and ruffled her hair, “I know. That's why I’m such a rule breaker. Anyway it doesn't matter. I already asked my choice to marry me.”

Teacher stopped his kicking at that, “You did what now.”

Gideon turned around and presented herself to the old man, “It was like magic, Teacher. I really thought the old man was full of shit when he commanded me from on high like that, but the second I saw her summon a horde of skeletons to come kill me, I just knew she was gonna be my wife.”

Teacher stood in front of her, hands on his hips. “Gideon Gaius-Prime, Divine Highness and Precious Heir to-”

Gideon groaned, “Please don't give me the whole name spiel, I promise I know it.” 

“Not the point, young one. There is an order to these things. You must meet them in a formal setting with a chaperone, arrange several meetings, then confire with your father and their parents; not do… what is it you did?”

“Uh, fought a bunch of her skeletons.”

“Yes, that. Don't do that.”

“But it worked! I got it in one! Why do we have to go through all of this if I already made my choice?” 

Teacher sighed. “Because we are in a delicate place, young one. The people are losing hope in their Kindly Prince. We must restore order in the system, and the best way to do that is a union of the houses to the heir to the Lord Undying. In a formal and public setting where no one can argue the authenticity of the match. Even if you’ve already found yourself your match, you must go through the proper rigor. Introduce yourself formally to every heir. Dance with them. But when all is said and done the choice is ultimately yours. Just… be convincing. But not too much!”

Gideon blinked. “So… people need to see me make goo-goo eyes at Harrowhark or they’ll riot?”

Teacher shrugged. “Basically!”

Gideon straightened up, “I can do that.”

-

“I can’t do this.” Harrow said, turning to her retainer. 

She’d never once, even in all her days presiding over evening prayer and morning mass, seen so many people. Other than the heirs, a smattering of nobles from every house had been invited, along with some Cohort war heros, guards, and staff for each group. The result was a cacophony of sounds, smells and people that had Harrow’s head spinning.

She said she’d try and she was. But no one just looked at them and screamed ‘Lyctor’. Why God had not insisted they keep a uniform like those in Cohort she had no idea, but it was becoming a massive inconvenience. Harrow could feel sweat beading at her neck and wanted to lash out violently in all directions.

“With all due respect my lady, you’ll cope,” Aiglamene responded, foisting a glass of wine in her hands. 

“I’m not drinking this,” she argued.

“It's not for you to drink, it's to make you look more social. Why don't you speak to one of the house heirs?” Her retainer suggested.

Harrow blinked. “I’m not acquainted with any of them.”

“Isn't this ball as good an excuse as any? Even if you don’t land the princess, fostering some connections to the other House’s isn't a bad idea,” Aiglamene said, one eyebrow raised.

Harrow sighed. “Fine. I’ll be back soon.”

Aiglamene nodded as she walked off, face hardened as if for battle and not a party. She glanced around at her options. Her mother made her do a cursory study of each of the House heirs, in case she’d need to formally address them while she was off-planet. Everyone seemed to be in attendance, from the scholarly Sixth to the rich Third to even the sickly Seventh. Before Harrow could walk up to any of them, a hand tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped, spilling some wine onto the polished floors.

“Oh goodness me, I’m so sorry for scaring you! I just thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Abigail Pent, the heir to the Fifth House. I’ve a much longer title, but I don’t want to bore you with the details,” The friendly woman in front of her said.

Harrow blinked at Abigail Pent and she giggled. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just so excited! All of us together here, this doesn't happen every day. Gideon has been so excited about this, all her letters have been such a mess!”

It took her a minute to realize who ‘Gideon’ was. Never in her life would she be so informal about Her Divine Highness. She was nearly so scandalized she couldn't respond. “You’re referring to Her Divine Highness then?”

Abigail nodded. “Oh yes! She’s such a dear. Been writing me letters since she was barely out of leading strings! A few others too, Palamedes Sextus and Dulcie Septimus... So sweet, and a lovely conversationalist. Have you had the chance to meet her yet?”

Harrow shook her head. So Her Divine Highness deigned to write letters to the other House heirs then? It shouldn't surprise her that she’d chosen to skip over Harrow, but the revelation still hurt. Was her House really so insignificant? “I haven't. I imagine she won't find much interesting about the Ninth.”

Abigail looked at her with eyes as wide as dinner plates, “Oh I don't know about that! There's such a rich history to your house! How I’d love to get my hands on your historical records… Will you be reopening for pilgrims anytime soon?”

“Now Abby,” A curly haired man said behind her. “Leave the girl be. She’ll want to spend time with someone her own age, not a couple of old foggy’s like us.”

“Oh that's right! Harrowhark, this is my husband Magnus Quinn, also known as my Cavalier Primary,” Abigail said, positively beaming.

Harrow had read that Abigail Pent had married her cavalier, but facing the reality of it was a new shock all together. “Yes… Hello,” She said to the man awkwardly.

“Hello Harrowhark! It's good to meet you. I’m almost a little sad though, I feel like Gideon won’t have anything new to send us in her letters if she isn't wildly speculating about the Ninth,” He said with a laugh, shaking her hand vigorously.

Harrow’s head swam. “She what-”

“Esteemed guests!” A voice said from the top of the stairs, cutting off their conversation. A little man in white robes with a long rainbow sash smiled and continued his greeting. “I’m sorry for the interruption. In the ten-thousand and eighteenth year of our Necrolord Prime, the Emperor Undying has gathered us all together to celebrate our union under Dominicus and His protection. He has asked that each heir to your Houses present themselves as an option in marriage to his one and only child. As such, she will be meeting with each and every one of you over the course of the next few weeks.”

The old man adjusted himself again, practically dancing with excitement. “Without further ado, let me introduce you to Gideon Gauis-Prime, Her Divine Highness and Precious Heir to the Lord Undying!” 

The crowd around Harrow vibrated with excitement as a white cloaked figure walked out, waving happily at the mass of people that gathered around. It would figure that Her Divine Highness would bask in such attention. She couldn't see anything from her place towards the back, not with her height. She looked around for Ortus and Aiglamene and realized they were completely out of her eye line. 

A thought struck her. Harrow could sneak off for a few minutes, get away from the crowd before she resumed her search. Aiglamene wouldn't notice in the chaos… hopefully. Before she could talk herself out of it, Harrow absconded to the terrace, breathing hard when she felt fresh air hit her face.

Inside she heard the dull roar of a cheer and was very glad she chose to step out. Idly she realized she was close to the gardens where she’d had her… encounter this morning. Her mind wandered quite unwillingly to the woman she’d fought there. It was doubtful she was still there, likely she was inside with the rest of Her Divine Highness’ adoring fans. Still… she could take the opportunity to gather some evidence to the woman’s identity. She’d worn obnoxious smoked glasses and a hood when they’d fought, her only defining features being her jawline and her biceps…

Harrow shook her head and marched over to the supposed crime scene. There were still broken up shards of bone littering the grass, too crunched up for even her to reuse. She mourned the waste, but knew that when it came to the Ninth, they’d never have a shortage of bone. The fight was short enough they had not destroyed anything too vital, just an already crumbling sculpture of a baby holding a… melon of some kind? She had no idea. 

It was nice out here, she realized. She’d never been to a place with weather conditions before, or seasons. According to her studies, the First House was just beginning to go through summer, a time mostly characterized by its heat, which Harrow had been dreading. But tonight was temperate, still a bit on the warm side but comfortable. 

Harrow unlaced the shall around her shoulders, letting it drop to her elbows. Though the gown had long sleeves, the lace at the top was sheer, showing more skin that she would ever be comfortable with. But it was the nicest thing the Ninth had to offer, so she wore it without complaint. There wasn't much time left now, she needed to get back inside and find some sort of benefactor for the Ninth. But the thought of crawling on her knees for some stranger's help was much easier than actually doing it.

Harrow sat on a concrete bench that was more or less still structurally stable and gazed up at the stars. It was… meditative to be alone like this. The quiet gave her a chance to think over the events of the day with a clear head. She let her thoughts drift again to the mystery woman who’d fought her and her constructs. She wondered why her father had allowed her to stray so far from her post. He looked like a sensible man, something his daughter clearly lacked despite seemingly inheriting everything else from him. 

A terrible intrusive thought ran through her head, that before she left, she would very much like to see her again.

-

“Without further ado, let me introduce you to Gideon Gauis-Prime, Her Divine Highness and Precious Heir to the Lord Undying!” 

Gideon winced, hearing that long winded ass name as she walked out to the party. There were waaaaay more people there than promised, to her great annoyance. How was she supposed to find Harrowhark in this giant sea of people? She threw a halfhearted glare to Teacher, who looked cheerful as ever.

“Rest assured, Her Divine Highness will introduce herself personally to each and every one of you. Please enjoy the rest of your evening. Drink! Dance! Be merry!” He finished with a flourish, bowing low to the crowd of people.

Those around them politely clapped as Gideon accened the large staircase, only one thing on her mind. Before she could take another step, one of the Third princesses stopped her.

“It's so good to finally meet you in person, Highness,” The Crown Princess of Ida, Coronabeth Tridenarius greeted with a curtsy. Gideon returned the gesture distractedly. 

“Uhm, hi. Have you seen-”

“Your Highness,” An annoying voice drawled. Gideon had a sneaking suspicion just who it belonged to. “Corona has so been looking forward to meeting you. Though I can’t imagine why.” The stick of yogurt turned human must have been her sister, Ianthe Tridentarius. 

“Well hi! Sorry, I promise I’ll be a lot more fun later I’ve just gotta-”

“Your Divine Highness!” A light twinkling voice said, before dissolving into a fit of coughs. “So good to see you!”

Dulcenea. Finally a person she could consult with. “Dulcie, hey have you-”

“I need to speak with Her Divine Highness,” The unmistakable judging snear of a person known as Silas Octacaiseron said, more demanding than asking.

“Yeah I promise I will I’ve just got to-”

“Her Highness has promised a brief meeting with me before the festivities really kick off. May I lead you outside?” 

Gideon could have kissed him. Except not because ew. But nonetheless leave it to Palamedes Sextus to come save the day with a little misdirection. “Right! Yeah, show me where to go,” She said, clapping her hand on her old friend's shoulder. “Sorry everyone! Business first. Go ahead and enjoy the grub, I’ll be back soon enough.”

There was a groan from the crowd of necro heirs and their cavs, but Gideon didn’t pay them any mind. Palamedes directed her out to the terrace nearby the landing shuttle with Camilla, of course, in tow. Gideon could feel the prickle of stares on her back and knew her swordmaster was watching her like a hawk.

“Thank god. Have I ever told you two that you’re my absolute favorite people ever?” Gideon said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“No, and I’d advise that you save those words for the Reverend Daughter. Or your chosen intended,” Palamedes responded, voice rich with humor.

“As if there's anyone else she’d even think of considering,” Camilla muttered behind them.

Gideon laughed and leaned back against the railing. “You’ve got me dead to rights. According to Teacher I’m supposed to make a big spectacle of considering every option here, then I can just choose Harrowhark. But I’ve gotta make it look good.”

Palamedes gave a little half smile at that, his glasses reflecting off the moonlight. “I figured something like that was in the works. Have you had the chance to speak with her yet?”

Gideon tilted her head up to the sky. “Yes… but I don’t think she likes me much.”

Camilla huffed. “Judging by the look of her I don't think the Reverend Daughter likes anyone.”

Palamedes gave his cavalier a half hearted ‘hey stop being a mega-bitch’ look. “Be nice. If all goes well Harrowhark Nonagesimus will be our future princess you know.”

Gideon smiled to herself at the thought. Harrowhark would probably hate all that notoriety. “I guess this is the part where I tell you guys I’ve already asked her to marry me.”

Palamedes eyebrows rose so high Gideon thought they might fuse with his hairline. “When did you possibly have time for that?”

“It was… quick,” she said lamely.

Camilla gave her an impassive look. “How quick?” She asked, voice as blunt as a whet stone.

“Like… five minutes into meeting her quick?”

Palamedes and Camilla gave her twin stares of disbelief, “What, did you walk up to her with a bouquet of flowers and say ‘Hello, I’m Her Divine Highness, want to get married?’”

Gideon was beginning to think her friends thought she was stupid. “No! She found me hiding in the bushes, I told her I wanted to fight her skeletons, we did and she was so cool I asked her to marry me.”

The necro and cav duo stared at her again, this time looking much more tired. “She really just says stuff like this and thinks it sounds normal, doesn't she?” Camilla asked the man next to her.

He nodded his head, “Yes… yes I truly think she does.”

“It was like… Listen you weren't there! It was a moment you know? She was covered in blood, I was covered in bone shards… it just felt right!”

Palamedes groaned and shoved his slipping glasses back up his nose. “Please tell me you properly introduced yourself to her at least.”

Gideon thought back to their encounter. “Uh. There wasn't enough time?”

Camilla gave her a smack across the head, “You know she probably thinks you’re some weirdo that hopped out of the bushes right?”

Gideon hissed. Camilla really packed a punch. “I was gonna! But then O.G. showed up, and her retainer got all protective, it was a whole thing. I’m gonna fix it, I’ve just gotta find her first.”

Palamedes sighed. “Last I saw she was heading towards the gardens. Be weary, she looked exhausted and suspicious.”

Gideon had not heard anything in that sentence past ‘heading towards the gardens’. Quickly, she straightened up, dusted off her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair. “Do I look okay? Not just like… royal but hot? Royally hot?”

Cam rubbed her temples. “You look fine. Now go.”

“Right… Right! Hey did you guys bring me out here on purpose? Y’know, so I’d be closer to where Harrowhark went?”

Palamedes smiled, “Something like that. You won’t have much time before the hordes start trying to find you. Go now and please for the love of your father, properly introduce yourself this time.”

Gideon grinned at her friend, pulling him into a ferocious hug. She could feel him wheezing through the hold and laughed. “Thanks Sexpal, you’re a king.”

Camilla narrowed her eyes. “Go.”

She didn't have to be told twice.

-

A few minutes had passed and Harrow was still willing herself to action alone on the bench. She toyed with the idea of just getting in the shuttle and leaving without Ortus and Aiglamene. Ortus at least would be grateful to be out from his mothers thumb. But Harrow dreaded the lashing she would receive if she left their one and only swordmaster behind on some nothing planet. Especially if she had to pay for the shuttle back. That would surely deplete their already woefully small budget.

With a sigh she hauled herself up, inspecting her dress for tears as she stood. The wrists were one bad night away from being completely ripped asunder and she made a note to repair them as best she could. Her great aunts were the true experts with a needle, but one did not live on the Ninth with years of ancient recycled clothes without learning how to repair a seam. 

There was someone coming down the path. Harrow felt a wave of panic, knowing it was likely Aiglamene here to scold her. She tried to compile some kind of excuse, but found her usually quite powerful brain lacking. To her surprise it was not her retainer, but a woman about her age, tall with the most ridiculous hair Harrow had ever seen.

“Harrowhark! Uhm- Hi! Hello! I didn't see you inside so I-” A voice called to her in a laughable ramble. Harrow raised her eyes to the figure rushing towards her and stood up, her hands reaching up to her necklace of phalanges in defense. The woman put her hands up in surrender, but Harrow didn't let go of her necklace.

“Who are you and what business do you have with me?” Harrow demanded.

“Right, yeah you wouldn't know that would you? You ditched the party before my big intro right?” The woman asked, inching closer to her. There was something about her voice that seemed familiar...

Harrow threw down a couple fingers, skeletons popping up from them cleanly. They stood before her like guards. “Not a step closer or I’ll hurt you.”

The woman before her laughed. Laughed! Like Harrow was joking or something! But to her credit she did stop. “Personal space. I get it. I’m Gideon. I’d shake your hand but… the whole space thing,” She explained, gesturing wildly to the air in between them.

Harrow, at that moment, realized she may have made a mistake. “You’re…” She said, dread building in her stomach.

“Yeah. I’m the chick with the really long name.”

Harrow stared at her. “You- I- The skeletons- I didn't-” She did though. She threatened Her Divine Highness publicly. Her parents would have her head for this if the Crown didn't already.

Gideon- why the hell would she introduce herself as just Gideon- laughed, a hand running through her hair. “It's okay. I’m the weirdo that came at you in the middle of the night.”

Harrow nodded, trying her best to think of a way for this confrontation to end with her dignity still intact. “Why aren't you inside?”

Her Divine Highness smiled at her, a smile that had far too many bright shiny teeth for Harrow’s liking. Something twisted in her gut at that smile. “Because I wanted to talk with you. If that's okay?”

It was certainly not okay. Harrow had no intention of even looking at Her Divine Highness tonight and speaking to her way very out of the question. Harrow had not prepared any talking points. What does a Princess even have to talk about? “Where are your chaperones?” She asked instead.

Gideon Prime hissed at that, like she’d said a bad word. “Inside still I hope. It's hard to get to know someone with a big guy with a sword looming over your back, y’know?”

Harrow raised her eyebrows. “I’d assume the servants of the Precious Heir to the Lord Undying would be more vigilant than this. What if I wanted to slit your throat and leave you for dead?”

Her Divine highness gave a choked laugh at that. “I mean I guess I’d be dead. Sucks to suck.”

Harrow was so very confused. Was every resident of the First House like this then? “You’re very carefree.”

Gideon Prime sat down on the bench next to Harrow, seemingly no longer afraid of the skeletons she’d positioned around herself. She even gave one of them a tap, as if testing out how sturdy they were. “I try. It's either that or sit here thinking about my life stuck on this rock forever. So carefree is easier.”

Harrow looked around them. It was very hard to sympathize with the feeling of feeling trapped in a place as ancient and beautiful as this. Harrow could spend a myriad exploring the hallowed halls of Canaan House and never tire of it. “I’m sure being surrounded by clean air, fresh food and an abundance of water must be quite taxing. Truly your suffering must be known throughout the system.”

She regretted the words the second they left her mouth. Gideon looked up at her, her legs dangerously close to touching Harrow’s skirt. She looked… amused? “I wouldn't say throughout the whole system but yeah, Abigail definitely thinks I've got it rough. She apparently tried to write a letter to my dad, asking if she could foster me. He didn't respond though, big surprise.”

Harrow cocked her head quizzically. Her Divine Highness was… odd. Maybe that's why the Emperor had her tucked away on this planet with limited communication. It would explain some things. “Abigail… Pent is it? The heir of the Fifth house?”

“Yeah, she's the best. Her husband Magnus is super cool too. Have you met them yet?”

Harrow twisted her hand in the skirts of her gown. “I have.”

Gideon grinned up at her and she felt a distinct increase in the temperature around her. Maybe it was normal on a planet with an uncontrolled climate. “Come on, sit down. Promise I don't have cooties.”

Just for that remark Harrow took a step back. “It's inappropriate.” 

“Would you sit next to me if I told you it was a command from on high?” Gideon asked hopefully.

“Is it?”

Her Divine Highness sighed. “Nah. But I’d like it if you would. I’ll keep my hands to myself I swear.”

That was absolutely no comfort to Harrow. But she was the heir to the King Undying. She should at least try to be civil. Slowly, Harrow sat as far away from Her Divine Highness as she could, sitting primly on the edge of the ancient stone. “Don’t you have a ball being held in your honor right now?” She asked snidely.

“Don’t care. I like being out here. More skeletons for me to fight,” She teased, her eyes focused on Harrow. 

She noticed then that Her Divine Highness has golden eyes. The color of the sun just beginning to sink on the horizon. They made her feel strangely dizzy. Was that some latent power of being the Emperor's child? “Is everyone on the First House intent on fighting the Ninth then?”

Gideon looked confused at that. “What do you mean? Has someone been giving you a hard time?” She asked, turning her whole big body to Harrow. 

“There was a guard out here earlier today. She thought it might be funny to challenge me to a duel… then she made a very crass joke at my expense.”

Her Divine Highness had a look of revelation overtake her face. Without warning she grabbed both of Harrow’s hands, pulling her closer. She felt her heart stutter, fight or flight reflex kicking in as those golden eyes bore into her own. “Harrowhark- Harrow. I’m sorry I think I should have cleared this up a few minutes ago. I-”

“Gideon!” A voice rang out above them. It was that little man from earlier, Harrow was sure of it. Her Divine Highness hissed through her teeth, dropping Harrow’s hands. She’d never been so grateful to hear another person's voice in her entire life. She twisted one wrist in her palm, feeling the frayed lace crinkle against her skin. 

“Fuck, sorry, I’ve gotta go. Lots of stupid Divine Highness work. We can talk more later. We’ve got the next two weeks to look forward to right?” She asked, voice frazzled.

Harrow wanted to tell her she had no intention on staying longer than tonight, but before she could Gideon Prime ran off into the darkness. She stared at her form as it retreated, a funny feeling nestling in her chest.

She looked down at her hands. The cuffs of her wrists had torn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> Harrow's dress (just picture it black with a deaths head moth instead of a butterfly): https://twitter.com/wikivictorian/status/1346234067059150854?s=21
> 
> I AM SO EXCITED INUONLYTWO MADE A MEME FOR THIS FIC!!! I've linked the image on imgur, please check it out (it made me laugh so loud)
> 
> https://imgur.com/a/qc2ypLn
> 
> And yes, I made Cam and Pal save the day in YET ANOTHER of my fics. I cannot help it, they are just the best, always.
> 
> For those wondering how Harrow could have possibly not recognized Gideon, most of her face and head was covered when they fought. Plus it was only about five minutes that they actually spoke to each other and Harrow is like crazy stressed rn. It might take a little bit of suspending your disbelief but stay with me! I promise all will be explained!
> 
> I’m so happy I was able to get this chapter out so quickly! If you liked it please let me know in the comments, it just means the world to me!


	3. Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm delighted to bring ya'll chapter 3!!!!!! This ball au has got my writing brain chugging at lightning speed and I'm so happy to share it will all of you!!!!

Son of a bitch she’d done it. She actually talked to Harrow. Like… For a while! With only a couple skeletons this time! And they weren't even trying to kill her! If that's not progress Gideon didn't know what was!

Now in far higher spirits, Her Divine Highness sauntered back to the ballroom, practically floating on air. At the stoop of the terrace Teacher stood with his arms crossed, trying his damndest to look disappointed. Unfortunately this failed when you took one look at his smiling face.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m back now. Divine Princess checking in!” she said to her caretaker with a salute.

Teacher inspected her with a sigh. “You know people have been asking for you. I cannot cover for you for the next myriad.”

Gideon grinned wide at her caretaker, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Who do I look like, dear old dad? I know I disappeared for a bit but hey, I’m here now. Ready to be the best damned diplomat you’ve ever seen.”

Teacher patted her hand, a giggle crawling up his throat. “Good. There's still a bit of time till the dancing starts and everyone gets well and truly drunk. Please do your best to mingle until then, hm?” 

She squeezed the old man. “You’ve got it.”

-

Harrow was not happy. Not happy in the slightest. After Her Divine Highness had ran off in a whirlwind, Ortus came to find her. To her absolute horror he regaled her with a tale of how he tried to get in some kind of… poetry related fight with the Seventh’s cavalier. Harrow took a deep breath, knowing she’d only have a few more hours to remain composed, then it was back to the Ninth where she would obliterate him for his foolishness.

“Ortus, must you fight this ‘battle’ now?” Harrow asked her cavalier as he led her back to the ballroom.

“For the sake of Mattius Nonius and the Ninth House, it is imperative that I defend boths honor. You should have heard what he said, my lady.”

Harrow could feel a burning wave of anger beginning to flare up behind her retinas. “We have, what, six more hours here? And you want to start trouble?”

Ortus looked away from her suddenly. “Well…”

Harrow stopped in her tracks. Something was wrong. “Ortus… What?”

The Ninth House cavalier adjusted his collar, as if suddenly overtaken by the heat. “I just think it might be best if we stay for a few more days, lady Harrowhark.”

Harrow twisted her head to look at him. “For what reason could we have to stay where we are clearly not wanted,” without warning, a flash of Her Divine Highness telling her they’d ‘talk later’ crossed her mind. She willed the image away.

“That is untrue, my lady. The Fifth House have been exceptionally kind to Aiglamene and myself.”

Easy to be kind when you’re one of the wealthiest houses in the system, Harrow thought darkly. “One house does not make a difference. I have told you my plans. We are here to find a benefactor for the Ninth of the Lyctoral variety. You were given strict instructions to ask around and see if one of God's fingers and gestures were in attendance. Not discuss poetry with the Seventh or do… whatever it is you were doing with the Fifth House!” Harrow argued as they stepped back into the ballroom.

“We were also discussing poetry with your cavalier! Or at least I was. Magnus was cracking horrid jokes as usual,” a cheerful voice said behind them. Harrow turned her head to find Abigail Pent, in a warm brown ball gown arm in arm with her… husband.

“Abby you wound me! I merely reminded Ortus the Ninth that you’re already a married woman,” the Fifth House cavalier nauseatingly reminded her.

“Oh pish posh. Harrowhark I’m so glad we could catch up with you. You’ve met with Gideon, yes? Isn't she just the most radiant thing? And funny too!” Abigail said happily. Harrow supposed it would make sense she’d sing the princess’ praises. The entire Fifth House likely benefited very much from Abigail taking an interest in her as a child. She couldn't help but admire the shrewdness in that investment.

“She seems… very different then I would have expected.” Harrow said simply.

“You should see her with a sword too! Oh she’s just marvelous. In fact, let me call her over, she’ll happily demonstrate for you,” Magnus said, looking around the ballroom for Her Divine Highness.

Abigail shoved her husband in the side with her elbow. “Calm down Magnus, we’re not trying to scare the girl.”

Harrow was a bit surprised to see them lathering such attention onto Her Divine Highness. Were they worried any negative words might get reported back to her caretaker? That seemed a bit severe. “It's fine. I was actually looking to speak with one of the Lyctors, are there any here tonight?”

Magnus and Abigail seemed to deflate at that. They looked to each other questioningly, as if a simple yes or no answer was too difficult for either of them to decipher. “Well… I’m not too sure. But you know who would know? Gideon! Her sword master is a Lyctor, you should go ask her to introduce you two. She’d happily accommodate you, Harrow!” Magnus said, a new vigor in his voice.

Harrow had already been embarrassingly close to Her Divine Highness once tonight, she dreaded having to speak to her again. Perhaps if she made no headway in the next hour or so she’d work up the courage to ask her. “Yes of course. Thank you for the advice. I’m sorry to leave so quickly but I have other introductions to make,” she said, curtsying politely to the Fifth House representatives.

“Yes of course! I’m sorry we’ve taken up so much of your time. Best get the talking done now before the ball properly starts!” Abigail said with a giggle, dipping low for a matching bow. Her husband did the same with a flourish. 

“Keep us posted, eh? It’ll be nice to get to know you while you’re here. Who knows, we might be attending your wedding soon,” he said with an utterly awful wink. 

Harrow couldn't possibly understand why he thought she had a chance when the Third Princess was around, but she supposed he was saying something similar to all the eligible heirs. “Perhaps. Goodbye now.”

Before she could be pulled back into conversation, Harrow rushed away. Behind her the Fifth House heir was whispering something fiercely to her husband. 

“Don’t be so obvious! You’ll scare her away!”

“Situations like this call for a bit of decisive action.”

“Gideon will be so mad at you.”

“You worry too much!”

“Magnus I-”

Harrow wrinkled her nose. The Fifth House seemed to be just as off as the First. If this was where Her Divine Highness learned her manners, she supposed that explained some things. Ortus followed behind her, blessedly silent as she scanned the crowd. It was difficult to pick anyone out in the sea of Cohort officers, all wearing blinding reds and whites. Near the refreshments table she spotted who she could only assume was the Sixth House heir and his cavalier, talking quietly with a small woman on crutches. Judging by the rumors, that must be Dulcenea Septimus.

Harrow walked toward the group. If anyone was to be on the lookout for Lyctors here, it would be them. The tallest among them looked up at her, grey eyes stark against the wire rims of his glasses. “Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus I presume?” He asked, his voice a low timber. 

“Yes. You’re the Warden of the Sixth, Palamedes Sextus then?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Correct. I see you’ve come to hide from the chaos,” he observed.

Before Harrow could respond the sickly woman on the crutches spoke up. “Please hang around for a while! We’re so happy to meet you! Have you spoken to Gideon yet?”

Harrow blinked and looked at the woman. “Yes… I assume she’s already made her rounds to you then?” Though according to Abigail she’d been on friendly terms with these people for years. She tried not to let that fact sting.

Dulcinea let out a tinkling little laugh. “Oh I’m sure she’s starting them now. But you know, she very much wanted to talk to you first.” 

“Dulcie…” The cavalier behind the Sixth House heir said in a warning tone. Dulcinea waved her hand in dismissal. 

“I know, I know. But just between us, what did you think of her? She’s so handsome, like something out of a story! I read the most romantic novel about a cavalier who was in love with her necromancer and-”

“What she means is she’s very happy to meet you,” Palamedes said quickly, thankfully interrupting the Seventh House heir’s embarrassing tangent. Harrow did not need to know about what sort of odd sexual fantasies she had about Her Divine Highness. 

“Have any of you met one of the Lyctors? I’d assume at least a few of them might take an interest in the festivities,” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“If my reports are to be believed there are very few Lyctors left. And I haven't heard any intel about any of those remaining attending the party,” Palamedes said, pushing his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Harrow felt her hopes dash as quickly as they came. “I see… Of course they would have more important things to do than indulge… Whatever this is.”

The cavalier behind them, a thin woman with sharply cut chin length hair, raised her eyebrows. “Apparently the Emperor desires his child wed. Good luck to whoever will have her.”

Harrow’s eyes widened. Such disrespect to the Precious Heir was nearly sacrilegious. But the others in the group just laughed. “Come on Cam, we both know whoever Gideon marries will be worshipped on hand and foot,” her necromancer said with a smile.

“She’s just that type you see,” Dulcinea said, leaning conspiratorially close to Harrow. “Very giving, very loving. She’d make a fine cav in another life.”

The two members of the Sixth House shot the Seventh heir a look and she threw her hands up. “Sorry. I’m sticking with the plan I swear.”

“Plan-” But before Harrow could ask more the little man from earlier hopped up on the makeshift stage towards the center of the ballroom.

“Esteemed guests! It’s lovely to see you all enjoying each other's company! But what is a ball without dancing? In five minutes we’ll begin. Please fill out your dance cards, and with any luck some of you will get a dance with Her Divine Highness!” The little man announced, ending his speech with an exaggerated wink. Harrow felt a part of her soul shiver up and die. Was there anything more aggressively terrible than dancing in public?

“Oh how exciting! I can’t dance with my silly little disease, but you three should enjoy it!” Dulcinea said with a laugh. 

“Is this really necessary?” Harrow asked the group. 

The Sixth House heir shrugged his shoulders. “Probably not. But it is tradition. I don't imagine they dance much on the Ninth?”

Harrow shook her head vehemently. “Certainly not!”

The cavalier whose necromancer called her Cam made some sort of waving gesture to a person nearby. “You can dance though, right?” She asked.

Harrow’s parents had forced her to learn all the steps to three basic waltz’ when they’d received their invitation. “Yes but-”

“Harrow! And… Everyone else!” The low voice said behind her. Oh no. She wasn't ready for this. Not this soon.

“Your Divine Highness,” Palamedes said, bowing his head. There was a smile playing at his face, as if the princess’ title itself was a joke.

“Oh come on now, none of that,” The Divine Highness in question said, mutual humor tinging her words. 

Harrow knew it was a bit too late for introductions, but at least if Aiglamene saw this she’d be satisfied that she’d done her duty to the Ninth. “Your Divine Highness, thank you for letting me make your acquaintance,” she said, turning around and curtseying low. Her gown flowed out in a sea of lace below her as she crossed her ankles, praying no one noticed the tear she’d fixed earlier that day.

“Oh uh- Harrow you really don't need to do any of that. And it's Gideon. Please,” the princess said apologetically, hands flailing in front of her. Harrow risked a glance up at the princess. She looked just as she had in the gardens earlier, except this time with the top buttons of her shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up on her blazer. Her forearms were golden brown and dappled with dark freckles, as if she spent all her free time basking in the rays of Dominicus. Harrow hurriedly looked away before anyone could notice her staring.

“That’s highly inappropriate,” Harrow noted as she stood back up. Even with her ramrod straight posture, she barely hit Her Divine Highness’ shoulders. 

“I’m not really one for formalities. So listen, I’m supposed to lead everyone in the first dance of the night. Is there any chance you’d want to be my partner?”

Harrow stared at the princess, disbelieving of the words that came out of her supposedly holy mouth. “I’m afraid I’m not a very accomplished dancer,” she said quickly, more than a bit embarrassed. 

Her Divine Highness grinned down at her, an asymmetrical smile that had a funny effect on her pulse. More of her latent Prince Undying gifts she supposed. “That’s alright. I can lead like nobody's business.”

“She really can you know,” Dulcinea said. Harrow had a very uncomfortable thought about Her Divine Highness dancing with the Seventh heir and shook her head. 

“You can say no if you wanna. I’m content to hide out here with the rest of you dorks,” Her Divine Highness said with yet another obnoxious smile. ‘Cam’ gave her a smack on the back for the remark, and rather than appropriately punish her, Her Divine Highness laughed, like it was their own private joke.

“See how they bully me?” She asked, motioning her head towards the Sixth House representatives. Harrow thanked the stars that the tide of conversation seemed to change away from dancing. 

“It’s remarkable she was able to do that and keep her head on her shoulders. Has the monarchy become particularly forgiving in the past ten thousand years or so?” Harrow asked, hating the way the corners of her mouth had begun to tick up involuntarily.

“Well we don't exactly keep the guillotine sharp. Maybe I’ll let pops know Cam’s volunteered to test it out,” Her Divine Highness joked, leaning frighteningly close to her.

“I’m sorry Gideon, but lay one hand on my cav and you’ll have the full wrath of the Sixth House at your back. We might seem like harmless librarians, but we’ve a few tricks up our sleeves,” Palamedes said. Out of the corner of her eye, Harrow could see the faintest hint of a smile on the Sixth Cavalier’s face. 

“Not that this rousing discussion of public execution and insurrection isn't lovely, but we still have the first dance to decide on,” Dulcinea said with a cheeky grin. Harrow wanted nothing more than to wring her weak little neck.

“Right. Sorry about this Harrow. I’d very much like to have you for the first dance, but if that's not cool I can always drag Cam or Pal out onto the floor.” 

All members of their little group turned their eyes to Harrow. She swallowed, thinking of how much worse it would be with the entire ballroom’s gazes on her. She tried to think of a logical reason why Her Divine Highness would want to dance with her first. Perhaps to gather more evidence to send her away? Make a dramatic start to the evening? The contrast between the pure black, skull headed nun and the glorious princess of their empire was certainly a sight. It might also catch the attention of the right people… “I’ll do it. Though I swear if you make a fool of me, Divine Highness I’ll cover you with crawling skeletal hands as you fall asleep tonight!”

The Divine Highness in question upon receiving this threat did not sentance her to torture, or slap her in the face for her insolence, but gave her a warm look, her eyes positively glowing in the low lights of the ballroom. “I promise I’ll spin you like a champ.”

-

Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit! Gideon was doing it! Harrow was going to dance with her! What the fucking fuck? What the actual fucking fuck? She was almost tempted to start beating herself over the head, just to make sure it wasn't a dream. 

But God damnit, Harrow was so fucking cute. Standing there, looking all ‘haha I’m an evil witch and I’m better than you’ with her long black dress, hands on her hips, managing to somehow look down on Gideon despite literally looking up at her. Gideon was staring. Why was she staring? Oh dammit she couldn't stop staring! Why the fuck weren’t her asshole friends making her stop staring?!

“It looks like the band is about ready to start. Perhaps you two should start moving to the dance floor?” Palamedes, the fucking best person she knew, suggested.

“Oh yeah! Totally was just about to say that! Harrowhark?” Gideon asked (very smooth and very coolly without her voice cracking at all), holding out her hand for the Ninth House necromantic heir.

Harrow looked at her hand, brows furrowed as if it was a puzzle. Gideon bit back a wave of insane fondness for this desperately adorable nunlet. Finally, she put her hand gently in Gideon’s, the black gloves Harrow was wearing keeping them from direct skin to skin contact. That was chill. If Gideon played her cards right, they’d have all the skin touching time in the world in just a couple weeks. Her head swam at that thought.

“Ready?” She asked. Gideon tried keeping the excitement out of her voice, she really did.

“Yes. I’ll attempt to not step on your toes,” Harrow said quietly, so that only she could hear. Gideon resisted the urge to kiss the life out of her then and there. Over Harrow’s shoulder, she could see Camilla, Palamedes and Dulcinea observing the two of them with sly expressions. Were they…?

Before she could finish that thought, the band kicked back into gear, signally Gideon and her partner to the center of the ballroom. Under all that paint was a very nervous girl, Gideon knew. Still, she held herself up high, gliding next to her like she’d done it every day of her life. Gideon swelled with pride.

“Y’know, even if you step on my toes, we can play it like a gag. I’ll dance you around balancing on my shoes if I have to,” Gideon joked as they got into position, her standing a little more than a meter apart from Harrow, facing each other as if they might duel. 

A noise came out of Harrow. It sounded like a cough that might one day group up to be a laugh. She grinned at her and bowed low. Harrow returned the gesture, looking into her eyes as they both took a step towards each other. Gideon wrapped her right hand around Harrow’s, holding it up parallel to her shoulder, her other hand tucking into her waist. She felt a little shiver run through her partner and bit down a smile.

“If worse comes to worse, I’ll simply regrow your toes mid-dance. How is your pain tolerance, Divine Highness?” Harrow asked, voice a whisper as she put her left hand on Gideon’s shoulder. She was sorely tempted to turn her head and kiss it.

“Well… according to Mercymorn, I’m a giant infant who wails every time I’m given an immunization. Of course, she still thinks I’m three years old, so maybe don’t trust her judgement,” Gideon laughed as the music picked up. Harrow’s eyes went a little wide as Gideon began pulling her back and forth.

“Mercymorn is… who exactly?” Harrow asked. With her so close, Gideon could feel her breath ghosting around her skin. The sensation set off pinpricks of heat across her cheeks.

“She’s a total basket case who my dad employs as both a family physician and his Second Saint. Trust me, you don’t wanna run into her on a dark and rainy night.”

Harrow’s face froze and Gideon could feel her movements beginning to stutter. Quickly, she pulled her closer. “Are you okay? Did I say something weird?”

Harrow looked up at her, eyes wide. God they were pretty. Like the carved obsidian pipe her father smoked from on special occasions, but on a hot girl so it was better. “No. No I just… I’ve been attempting to meet a Lyctor while I’m still here. Is there any chance she’s attended the ball, then?”

Gideon could not think of anything she wanted less than to introduce Mercymorn to her (hopefully!) future bride. “No, the only Lyctor who's here is Gideon the First. Wait, what did you say about-”

The musical cue changed and Harrow spun out of her arms briefly. Gideon pulled her back in, her front flush to Harrow’s back. Suddenly thoughts were becoming very hard to form. “About what?” she asked, voice trembling. Gideon couldn't see her face and wanted to stab the asshole that invented this stupid dance in the first place. It was probably Augustine, the chode. 

“Uh- about…. The whole ‘still here thing’. You’re planning on staying the whole two weeks yeah?”

Harrow turned around in her arms, flowing smoothly into the second part of the dance. Ha, and she said she was no good. Liar. “I wasn't expecting to stay that long, no. I’ve never been away from the Ninth in all my life. Being on foreign ground is- well it is uneasy to say the least.” 

Gideon tightened her grip on Harrow’s waist. “I’d-” But before she could convince her to stay, the music switched tempos, signaling all other attendants to join the dancefloor. Harrow pulled out of her embrace hurriedly and Gideon felt the loss as intimate as a forgone limb. 

“Thank you for the dance Divine Highness. I should go check on my staff,” She said, bowing quickly then exiting the dancefloor as if flames were on her heels.

Gideon was left bereft in the center of the commotion. And she still hasn't told Harrow it was her who had proposed in the gardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes: 
> 
> Outfits for all!!!: https://imgur.com/a/cuv65iZ
> 
> Soooooooo… good news and bad news. Good news is that this will actually be around seven chapters! Bad news is that means you'll have to wait longer for the thrilling conclusion! I hope that's okay with everyone!
> 
> Yes everyone is absolutely in on singing Gideon's praises to Harrow as a part of a grand scheme to get them together. They're just... not very good at it. Shout out to Dulcie for straight up breaking script to be like 'lol Gideon is hot tho right?' What a QUEEN!!!!!
> 
> Also yes, I will have Gideon and Harrow interrupted at every key moment. This wouldn't be a royalty drama without it!
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please oh please hit me with that sweet, sweet comment, even if it is just a :3 face. I love to see it more than anything on this earth. Also a big belated thank you to everyone who followed me from Orchids in Ink! I promise that series is not done, I've still got about seven WIPS in that universe to get through before I close shop, but I will be taking a little break from it for now to focus on updating this guy! I hope no one is disappointed!


	4. Lovefool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harrow gets a grim reminder. Gideon finally gets to use her longsword again. Cam and Pal think they're both absolute idiots.
> 
> A note for this chapter. 
> 
> SPOILER FOR THE FIC, SKIP TO THE LINE BELLOW IT FOR REGULAR NOTES:
> 
> I'm gonna have to ask you all to be v nice about how I handled the big bone monster fight. I did my best, but who can compare to Muir's amazing writing?! Please be gentle, I tried therefore no one should criticize me!
> 
> (also I'm hand waving most of this Lyctor magic stuff... Sorry!)
> 
> A big huge wonderful thank you to my friends on the Locked Tomb discord who both gave me suggestions for GTF nicknames and read through Chapter Four when it was at its most sloppiest. Ya'll are my sun and stars!!!!

Gideon the First. Her Divine Highness had said Gideon the First was the only Lyctor in attendance tonight. She would have liked more options, but that was fine. She’d work with what she had. It was this, or dooming the Ninth House to complete and utter ruin.

Harrow marched across the dance floor, astutely dodging congratulations and requests for another waltz as she scanned the room for Aiglamene. Finally, she found her talking with, to her immense surprise and betrayal, the Fifth House. 

“Aiglamene, I need to confirm with you for a moment. Excuse us,” Harrow said, hurriedly motioning to her retainer. The old woman quirked a brow, but followed her without complaint, nodding to the Fifth. 

“Yes of course! We’ll have plenty of time to talk later, yes?” Abigail said as they passed. Her face was reddened, likely due to the mostly empty wine glass in her hand. Judging by the way her partner was leaning over he wasn't much better off.

“We’ll be seeing you Ninth! With bells on!” He slurred, ending his statement with a loud snort. Harrow was appalled just witnessing their public depravity. Were things really so lax in their House?

Once they got a bit of a ways away from the commotion, towards the back of the ballroom near the windows, Aiglamene turned to her. “So? Enjoy dancing with Her Divine Highness?”

Harrow flushed at the thought. It had been an overwhelmingly uncomfortable experience and she dreaded knowing it would be reported back to her parents. “It was informative. I now know there is one Lyctor present tonight. He is Her Divine Highness’ name sake.”

Aiglamene gave her one long look, as if to say ‘you’re still on this?’. “Do you have a description, my lady?”

Harrow shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “No…”

“Then you’ve secured an introduction?”

“No... Not that either.”

Aiglamene let out a long sigh. “So you have no idea what this man looks like, nor did your dance with Her Divine Highness yield to an official introduction. Am I summing this all up nicely?”

Harrow clenched her fists. “I am doing the best with the little information that has been given to us! What else am I supposed to do?”

“I know this might sound rather extreme, but you could just talk to the princess directly about giving the Ninth aid. She seems the agreeable sort.”

Harrow burned thinking of having to face Her Divine Highness again. She could still feel the press of her hand against her waist like a brand. It made uncharacteristically flustered and she would not allow herself to act a fool around all the House heirs. “She would tell me what we already know. That we can ask for aid from the Second House, or that I could arrange a marriage with one of the nobles present.”

Aiglamene gave her a long hard look. “There is a third option you know.”

Harrow scoffed. “Like what?”

“You could attempt to betroth yourself to Her Divine Highness.”

Harrow felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Absolutely not!” 

“What possible reason would you have not to at least try?” Aiglamene asked, voice as gentle as a cannonball.

“You would have me make a fool of myself trying to impress someone who the entire system is vying for? Someone who has far better prospects than the destitute nobility of the Ninth House?” Harrow asked, scandalized. 

“Let me ask you this then. Why are you so convinced that a Lyctor would tell you anything different than what you have imagined Her Divine Highness would tell you?”

Harrow paused at that. There was no real way for her to know, really. But they are the direct link to God! His fingers and gestures! Harrowhark Nonagesimus had one skill at her disposal, and that was her necromancy. She was certain that her talents on display would net at least some sympathy from one of their group. Or at least an understanding, necromancer to necromancer. 

And besides. Gid- Her Divine Highness was a flight risk. It was all well and good to play nice at a ball, but who knew if she’d actually be willing to help with intimate matters such as one's House’s poverty. Or if she even wielded any systemic power in the first place. And, if Harrow was being honest with herself, being around her made Harrow nervous. She would be unable to make a proper argument for her House if Her Divine Highness kept… looking at her like that. 

“It is our best option given circumstances. After I discuss matters with Gideon the First we can board the shuttle back home and forget this dreadful night ever occurred.”

Aiglamene idly looked around the room, picking up a glass from one of the constructs passing by tasked with bringing refreshments to the guests. She took a long swig from the glass, put it back on the tray, and looked right at Harrow. “We’re not leaving tonight.”

Harrow paused. “What.”

Aiglamene shrugged. “I know you’d like to pack up and run, but that is not our prerogative. The Reverend Mother specifically told me we are not to return home until the festivities end in two weeks. So no. We’re not leaving tonight.”

Harrow felt anger roll over her like a hurricane. “Why did you let me go on like that if you had no plans of letting us return early?!”

Aiglamene shrugged. “Thought you’d give up on the idea once we touched down. It's nice on the First. Fresh food, non-recycled air… It wouldn't be a bad idea to embrace it while we’re here, you know. You may come to like it.”

Harrow had quite enough of everyone deciding her future without her consent. “Fine! You hold me prisoner here? So that, what? I might accidentally convince Her Divine Highness for her hand? It will not happen Aiglamene, we must be realistic!” 

Aiglamene looked bored, she realized. Like witnessing your child throwing the same tantrum endlessly and you’re just forced to wait it out. It made Harrow seethe. “Not realistic? I’m not sure about that.”

“And why not?”

“Because the aforementioned Divine Highness is walking right over here.”

Harrow froze. “What are you-”

“Harrowhark! And… Aiglamene was it? Nice to meet you ma’am. I hear you’re a regular wizard with a sword,” a familiar voice said behind her. Harrow felt that same burning from earlier stretch over her like a festering infection.

“Aye. Good to meet you as well. I was just about to turn in for the night. Would you be able to escort Lady Harrowhark back to her rooms at the end of the evening? I’d have Ortus do it, but he’s a bit occupied at the moment,” she said, pointing her thumb back to the continued… discussion Ortus was having with the Seventh cavalier. 

Harrow was furious with her retainer. Playing up some dotty old woman roll when Harrow knew she was as sharp as a tack. “Aiglamene, I do not wish to waste Her Divine Highness’ time,” she gritted out.

“Nah it's okay. I’d like the excuse to talk a bit more… if that's alright with you?” Her Divine Highness asked, rather shyly this time for some reason Harrow couldn't possibly fathom. 

“Good. Now that all that’s settled, I think I’ll try out one of those sonics with the water. It’ll be nice to waste someone else's resources for a change,” Aiglamene grumbled, teetering off towards the direction of their rooms.

Harrow bit the inside of her cheek. Her retainer must have the faith of the heavens in her if she thought her silly suggestion would ever work. Harrow! A princess! The idea was laughable at best. She wanted to call back to her, but dreaded making a scene.

“So… exactly how tired are you?” Her Divine Highness asked, nudging Harrow’s hand a bit. The feeling drove a spike of shockwaves up her arm and she jumped.

Harrow turned to the princess, glancing up at the figure before her. “... Why?” 

“Well… I thought, if you were bored with all the,” She gestured wildly at the party around them. “You know, formal stuff, I could maybe show you something cool?”

Harrow scrunched up her nose. “Don’t you have duties to perform?”

Her Divine Highness laughed and shook her head. “I mean… yeah. But I did the big stuff already. Introduce myself to everyone, lead the first dance, showed up, lookin’ nice. But I really wanna hit stuff with my sword. And I know a secret about Canaan House that nobody else does.”

Harrow leaned in at that. Secrets were the bread and butter of the Ninth House after all. “What is it?” she asked, a little breathless.

Her Divine Highness grinned at her and held out her hand. “You’ll have to come with me to find out.”

Harrow looked at the outreached palm before her. She thought of the Ninth and hesitated.

“I should also mention the secret is in a Lyctor lab,” Her Divine Highness said casually.

Harrow took the hand without a second thought.

-

Gideon rushed down the dark halls of Canaan house, lit only by the glow of the moon, a thrill in her heart that only rule breaking gave her. She squeezed the gloved hand laced between her fingers and felt wild with happiness.

“How much- how much further is this laboratory?” Harrow asked, panting with every breath. Gideon really wanted to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. But something told her Teacher might object to that blatant display of favoritism if they were seen. 

“Just a bit more. It's through this hatch coming up. Then from there we climb down the ladder and boom! Monster lab.”

“... Monster lab?” 

Gideon stopped at the hatch in the floor, squatting down to look at the secret entrance. She’d found it when she was twelve, after a long boring day of absolutely nothing since both Gideon (The prequel) and Teacher had been busy meeting with the old man. She’d taken one look at that lock and suddenly discovered an exciting new hobby.

“Are you… Are you picking that lock?” Harrow asked, still panting. A little bit of her paint had slid off at the crown of her forehead, fat smudges revealing copper skin underneath. Gideon wanted more than anything to know what was under the rest of that paint.

“Yeah. No idea where the original key went. But it's how I’ve been getting in and out of here for the past few years.”

Harrow crossed her arms. “This seems highly suspect.”

Gideon wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh it totally is. But it's also crazy fun. What do you say? Wanna watch me try to slay a bone beast?”

Harrow’s head tilted in consideration. But Gideon knew that glint in her eye as well as she knew the back of her hand. There was no way a secret underground monster wasn't curling her little Ninth House toes. “If I agree, I demand terms.” 

The latch fell off with a thunk. “What kinda terms?”

“I want complete satisfaction that if we are caught doing… whatever it is we’re about to be doing, I will not be held responsible.”

Gideon felt her smile tick up. She hadn't been caught in the basement in the seven years she’d been coming down here. “Done. If we get caught I’ll tell them I convinced you to come down here.”

Harrow nodded, seemingly satisfied. “And another thing. After this I want an introduction to the Lyctor you’ve been named for.”

Gideon paused at that. Not that she didn't love Gideon (Arc One) a whole bunch or anything, but she was kinda hoping to put off introducing Harrow to her weirdo relatives until after she’d convinced her they were made for each other. “Whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyy?” She asked, very maturely. 

Harrow kicked a stray pebble of debris across the floor and Gideon wanted to hug her so fucking bad. “I’d like to discuss some sensitive matters with him.”

This had Gideon perking up. “Sensitive? Like what?”

“Like- It's really none of your concern Divine Highness,” Harrow said. “Do we have a deal or not?” 

Gideon groaned. “Yeah of course we do. But please, for the love of my dad, just call me Gideon.”

Harrow put her hands at her sides, fists clasped. “Very well. Please lead the way… Gideon.”

A funny thing happened then. Gideon had never really liked her name. It was just a name you know? Plus it already belonged to her sword master, which got hella confusing whenever Teacher was calling for one of them. But in that moment, when her name left Harrow’s lips, Gideon realized how couldn’t imagine being called anything else.

“Follow me, my lady.”

-

Wherever Her Divine Highness had taken her, it was horribly dark. They’d had to traverse down a ladder and Harrow immediately regretted wearing a long gown down to such an ancient, dusty place. She fretted in the low light, trying to see if she’d made any tears in the seams. Next to her, Gideon lit a small lantern with a match she’d found on a table.

“Is this it then?” Harrow asked, looking around at the dusty chamber they’d found themselves in.

“Nah, this is just the entrance. Over there, that’s the door,” she said, motioning her head to the steel door on their right.

“So that is the Lyctor laboratory. Was it abandoned after they deciphered the Lyctoral formula then?” Harrow asked.

“Honestly? No idea. No one knows I can get in here, so I don’t really ask questions,” Gideon said with a shrug of her shoulders

Harrow had a sudden, startling revelation. She had stupidly agreed to be alone with Her Divine Highness without a chaperone in sight. She looked back up at the hatch and realized she may have made a terrible mistake. 

“You okay?” Her Divine Highness asked, startling her out of her reverie. 

“Yes. Fine. Show me this laboratory.” Harrow said, stuffing down her feelings. If worse came to worse, the princess could not possibly fight off the hordes of skeletons Harrow would drown her in if she did anything… untoward. 

Her Divine Highness grinned and held out her hand. Harrow stepped out of reach. “Do not be inappropriate while we’re out of eyesight. I’m warning you, I’m quite the talented bone magician,” Harrow said warningly.

Gideon sighed. “Yeah, I know. Right this way Corpuscular Queen.”

Before Harrow could be too horrified by that infernal nickname, Her Divine Highness led them through a door that opened to a parlor with two doors. It looked as if it had not been touched for some time, a dilapidated library of lost information. Harrow itched to pick apart the crumbling files that lined the wall. Above the two doors were brokenly flashing words, RESPONSE and IMAGING.

“Originally these tunnels were lit with the backup generator. Teacher hasn't had it powered up in ages. No point when no ones trying to use the lab, I guess,” Gideon said behind her. “Some of the lights still work though, so we’re not gonna need a torch or anything.”

Harrow glanced up at Her Divine Highness. “Why do you call this the Monster Lab?”

Gideon’s lips slid into an asymmetrical smile that had her heart murmuring. “Now this is the fun part. I think the old Lyctors must have used this lab for training or something right? Go through the RESPONSE door real quick,” she instructed, pulling the door open for her. Harrow walked through as commanded. 

Inside there was a sort of mid-sized room, empty except for a smattering of sand, a speaker on the wall, and a drain. Harrow frowns, thoroughly unimpressed. “That’s it?” She asked.

Her Divine Highness cackled next to her, a hoarse laugh that makes Harrow involuntarily bite the inside of her cheek. “This is just part one. Follow me.”

Gideon leads her back inside the parlor and steps inside the room labeled IMAGING, motioning for Harrow to stay. “Now look out that window along the wall. Pretty cool huh?”

Harrow would not, under any circumstance, call this sight cool. Bone chilling perhaps. Horrible. A fascinating case study. But not cool. From the grains of sand that littered the floors of the RESPONSE room formed a bone colossus of monstrous proportions. She was convinced even before the mass extinction that led to the Great Resurrection there had never been an animal shaped like that. 

“I call him Gruesome McBadBone. Gru for short. We’re real old friends,” Her Divine Highness called out from the little room on the side. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve been trying to kill that rat bastard.”

“It's remarkable. That is some of the most outstanding work of bone construct magic I’ve ever seen,” Harrow said with amazement. Even on the Ninth, with their finely honed skills had she never seen a construct like that. She’d certainly never made anything that huge before, let alone her parents or grandparents.

“Right? When I was a kid and my swordmaster was too busy to fight me I’d come down here to wack at Gru. See, there's sort of a safety feature built into this whole thing,” Gideon said, stepping out of the IMAGING room. Just as soon as it had been built, the skeletal monstrosity fell apart. Harrow yelped, already mourning the loss of such an immaculate subject.

Her Divine Highness tugged on Harrow’s elbow, leading her to the door she’d just exited. “See, there's a trigger built into this room. When you put enough weight in there it makes the monster happen,” she explained happily.

“I highly doubt it's that simple,” Harrow said, looking into the narrow room. It was the size of a broom cupboard, with some kind of archaic sound system, likely linked to the speakers she’d seen inside the RESPONSE room. 

“As far as I can tell the Lyctors used to come in here to train. So like, the necromancer would sit in the IMAGING room while their cav beat the crap out of the monster in there. No idea why they’d need to be separated though. I mean, what's the point of the window in the parlor then?” Gideon said, half to herself. 

Harrow furrowed her brow. Her Divine Highness wasn't wrong to question the flaws of this training room. It was odd to say the least. “The speaker system implies the necromancer would direct the cavalier while fighting. But if they couldn't see, what then? Perhaps some sort of inane trust exercise?”

Her Divine Highness shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it was a time out room for naughty necros. I’ve read enough dirty magazines to see where that goes.”

Harrow looked up at the princess, affronted. “You are a disgusting hog!”

Gideon laughed and put her hands up. “Sorry. Sorry. Actually no, I’m not at all sorry.”

Harrow glowered at Her Divine Highness, which only had her cackling more. “Just… Just continue your moronic tale.”

Gideon ran her fingers through her hair, still chuckling a little. “Okay so, when I was little I found out that if I put just enough stones in the IMAGING room, the monster would appear. Then I could go in and fight it until I got too beat to shit, or too tired but trust me the first one happened waaaaay more often. But the door doesn't lock behind you, see?” She waved her hand, opening and closing the door for emphasis. “So I’d fight him, get too beat up to keep going, crawl through the door, go kick a few of the rocks out of the IMAGING room and boom, no more Gru until I got bored again.”

Harrow looked up at the princess, looking cool and casual as she rolled up her sleeves. Though she was no flesh magician, there was something to be said for the beauty of defined muscle… not that that mattered right now. “You treated an ancient testing site for Lyctoral research as your own personal playground then?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re about to do it again?”

“Yop.”

“Why?!” Harrow spluttered.

“Well… Gru’s arms sorta look like swords. So I wanted to fight him.”

Harrow took a long, calming breath. “You wanted to fight an all powerful bone construct because… its arms looked like swords?”

“That's about the sum of it, yeah.”

“Di- Gideon?”

“Yeah?”

“You exhaust me.”

Her Divine Highness grinned wide, as if Harrow had just delivered a most devout honor onto her. “I’m about to be even more exhausting. I’ve never done this before with an audience, go ahead and stand in front of the window. I’ll impress you with my mad sword skills. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to kill him this time.”

Gideon sauntered off to the RESPONSE door before Harrow could stop her. “Wait! You don’t have a weapon!”

“I do! I stowed it away in the other room. If Teacher had caught me lugging that thing around the dance floor he’d have eaten my ass for breakfast.”

Harrow was aghast at this woman. Even being raised in the birthplace of Lyctorhood, how could one be so casual about such extraordinary inventions? “How do I activate it then?” she called to the girl in the other room.

“See those three rocks outside of the door? Chuck them inside! Anywhere's fine as long as they’re on the floor!”

Harrow found three square bricks of cinder and hauled them into the IMAGING room, then rushed to the window. Gideon was rolling her shoulders, staring right into the long dead eye sockets of the monster construct.

“Hey Gru! You’re gonna help me impress this girl okay? No breaking any of my bones please!” She called out to the monster cheerfully. It responded by swinging one of its arms wildly in her direction, nearly slashing her head off her shoulders.

“Woah dude! Feeling particularly nasty today? Sorry I couldn't get you an invite to the party. I know you love to dance!”

Harrow watched with rapt attention as Her Divine Highness swung her longsword at the beast with precise, practiced movements that made her look as if she was gliding on air. The monster flung itself at her with all its might, but Gideon moved too fast for it. In that moment, Harrow was reminded starkly of the woman from earlier. They must have the same swordmaster, she thought idly.

“Hey Harrow! How am I looking over here?” Her Divine Highness called, panting with exertion but still keeping a grin on that ridiculous face.

“Like a buffoon. You’ll kill yourself like this you know!” Harrow yelled back. 

Gideon laughed at that, kicking one bit of bone hard. Harrow winced. Those shoes were expensive. There was no need to be so wasteful with such nice leather. “Don’t worry about me sugar, I’m a Gru expert.”

Harrow stared dumbfounded as the princess dodged out of the way, drifting towards the door. The monster slashed wildly at her but Her Divine Highness was simply too fast. At that moment, Harrow had a thought. If this was some kind of test between a Lyctor and their cavalier, would it be possible to… 

“Gideon! Stay right there, I have an idea!” Harrow yelled, running to the IMAGING room.

“What?!”

Harrow hit the speaker button, which still worked thank god. “I once read about a theory where a talented necromancer could almost wield their cavalier like a blade. It's molecular and very complex but with enough focus I may be able to do it.”

Gideon’s voice was a bit muffled. “Okay? Okay! What do you need me to do?”

“Just-” Harrow felt her head begin to pound as she focused in on Gideon’s brainwaves. With all the moving around and thinking and feeling it was like there was a circus going on in her neurons. “You’re so noisy- Squint a little, and try not to get hit!”

It was at that moment, of course, that Gideon hissed, and Harrow felt a bump against her own shoulder as if someone had pushed her. “Gideon!”

“I’m alright! Okay, squinting!”

The pounding in her head continued, the neural patterns loud and obnoxious just like the princess herself. Every time she felt like she had a grip on it, another wave of oversensitivity crashed against her mind. She bit down on her lip until it was bloody, trying her damndest to keep focused. “There! Do you see anything now?”

Gideon’s voice rang out in the little room, more exhausted now. “Yeah- Its sort of glowy- Fuck!”

“Gideon?” Harrow asked, panicked.

“I’m okay! What do you need?”

Harrow grabbed the sides of the console, refocusing until she felt her grip on Her Divine Highness slide on like a glove. It was like she’d just sorted a messed up ball of wires into perfect sections, all connected and corresponding to their data centers as planned. “Slash at the left radius, your left not mine!”

“On it!”

There was a beat, and like she’d done it herself a splash of serotonin flooded in her skull and she knew Gideon had gotten it. Harrow breathed a sigh of relief as Gideon hollard.

“Yeeeeeess! What next?”

Harrow reared up against the console, pressing down on the speaker button. “Aim for the right scapula, in the shoulder girdle!”

There was a longer pause and Harrow heard a loud crash. The hair on the back of her neck had become plastered with sweat, and she knew her paint was running. “Gideon? Gideon! Are you still there?”

There was another pause and then a weak “Yeah,” rang out.

“Are you okay?!” Harrow asked, shaking with trepidation.

“I’m alright. Gru got a fucking cheap hit on me is all.”

Harrow clenched her fists so hard they hurt. “Be careful! We’re almost there!”

Gideon made a snorting sound. “Aye Aye captain!”

Harrow closed her eyes again. “Next aim for the right femur, as close to the center as you can!”

There was another crash, this one so loud it shook the tiny room she was enclosed in. Gideon let out a great bark of pain and Harrow rushed to the door. “I know what you’re doing in there! Don’t take another step out or we’ll have to do this whole thing all over! Don’t worry, I can take it!”

Harrow felt blood oozing out of her ears and winced at the sensation. She could only imagine how much blood sweat littered her forehead. “Fine. But you’d better hurry! I refuse to be held responsible for regicide!”

Gideon gave a weak little laugh at that and in the next second Harrow knew the weak spot had been broken to bits. Her Divine Highness let out a feeble victory cheer.

“Oh poor Gru. You should see him, he’s on his last legs over here. I almost feel like I should throw him a wake after this!” Gideon said with a laugh.

Harrow rolled her eyes. “Don’t get so attached to a bone construct. If my calculations are correct, there should be one last target. Its-” Harrow stuttered as her pulse beat angrily in her temple. “Fuck it’s… Second rib! Be careful, creatures this close to death are prone to acting out aggressively to maintain survival.”

“I could have told you that, genius!”

“Just do it!”

Harrow felt her head swim from the pressure, blood pouring out of both nostrils and sticking uncomfortably to her lips. She knew if she’d lost any more blood she’d likely faint. But she had to hold on for at least one more minute-

“Oh my god. Harrow! Harrow I got it! He’s disintegrating!” Gideon yelled out excitedly. Harrow slumped against the console as the overhead lights began to flicker on. Why had that-

Suddenly, there was a stomping and the door flew open. Gideon limped inside, looking the absolute measure of a divinely blessed creature with her golden skin glowing against the buzzing lights, skin wet with sweat. Harrow could have died happy in that moment.

“You have to come see this- It's- wait, are you okay?” Her Divine Highness asked with a puzzled furrow of her brow.

“Yes I- No. No, you must excuse me. I believe I am about to faint.”

And like that the world turned black.

-

“You did what now?” Palamedes asked, about an hour later. 

Gideon scrubbed her head as she watched one of her oldest friends checked the still unconscious Harrow’s pulse. She’d never been so scared in her entire god damned life when Harrow slumped over. Gideon had barely caught her before she slammed face first into the floor. “We uh… slayed the monster?”

Palamedes sighed, pushing up his glasses as Camilla snuck back into her room with some extra supplies. “At great risk to both the safety of yourself and the Reverend Daughter. What were you thinking?”

“She was thinking,” Cam said as she slammed fresh bandages on the table next to where Gideon was sitting. “That she’d like to use her muscles to impress Nonagesimus. And how did that go, moron?”

Gideon gave her friend a half hearted glare. “Pretty well actually, thank you very much. Until the whole fainting bit.” 

Palamedes looked over at her, a bemused expression on his face. “You’re very lucky I brought my medical kit with me tonight.”

Gideon hissed as Camilla applied alcohol to her scabbed up elbows. “I knew you wouldn't let me down.”

When Harrow had fainted, Gideon ran completely on autopilot. Knowing the ball was going to keep going until dawn, she’d laid Harrow out on a stone bench nearby the action and pulled Palamedes and Camilla away from the corner they’d been hiding in. Together, they transported both beat to shit girls to Gideon’s large suite, thankfully not getting caught in the process.

Now, Harrow was spread out on Gideon’s sheets, blood drying around her mouth as Palamedes gave her a quick exam. Gideon was sitting at the table she usually ate breakfast at, getting tugged here and there while Camilla tried to determine if she’d broken any bones. “Fuck- Ow Cam that hurt!”

“It was supposed to, dingus. You’re lucky you got away without anything worse than some bruises.”

“But Harrow-”

“The Reverend Daughter will be just fine,” Palamedes said with the surety of an expert in his field. “She overtaxed herself and is suffering from a mild case of dehydration. Doesn't look like she’s had much to eat lately either.”

“You’d know,” Camilla deadpanned.

“She’ll wake up soon, we’ll make sure she gets something to eat and something to drink. Then we should send her back to her rooms. It's a wonder her cavalier hasn't come looking for her,” Palamedes continued, plainly ignoring his own cav’s comment.

Oh yeah. Gideon had seen the big guy lumbering around near the Seventh a couple hours ago. “He doesn't seem to be a very hands on kinda cav, you know?”

“I prefer it that way,” Harrow said, coughing as she regained consciousness. Gideon stood up, over Cam’s protests, and rushed to her side. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, panic creeping into her voice. She tried to help prop Harrow up but she batted away her hands.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“No you're not. But you will be once you’ve gotten something to eat, and something to drink.” Palamedes said next to them, his voice tinted with humor.

“You- What are you-” Suddenly, it seemed Harrow had become aware of her surroundings. Blinking, she looked around the room, and at its three other occupants. “Where am I?” She demanded, ever the princess. Gideon felt her heart go mushy at that thought.

“My room. You fainted and I kinda freaked out, so I got Pal and Cam here to come up and help patch us up,” Gideon explained. 

Harrow’s mouth twisted into a lemon pucker. “I was perfectly fine, thank you.” 

“Like hell you were,” Camilla said, leaving no room to argue.

“I assure you Sixth, this was not my first time fainting after strenuous activity. I simply needed a little time to rest.”

Palamedes nodded his head. “Be that as it may, Her Divine Highness was quite worried. And, for what it's worth, so were we.”

Harrow looked a little guilty at that. She turned her head down to look at her palms, now poked with blood and nail marks. “I- Thank you for the concern. All of you. Though I hold true that it was unnecessary.”

Gideon laughed at that, sitting on the bed next to where Harrow was propped up. “No worries. Harrow! We slayed fucking Gru tonight! Do you know how long I’ve been trying to do that? Over seven years! And with you, we got it on our first try!”

Harrow’s lips twisted into a sly smile, somehow still incredibly fucking attractive even with blood covering her teeth. “We did.”

Gideon wanted to say so much more. How amazing she was. How fucking smart she was. How god damned heartbreakingly perfect she was. But before she could utter another word, her door banged open. And she knew exactly who had come knockin’.

“Gideon.”

Yup. She was dead. “Heeeeeeeyyyyy Number One. How's tricks?” She joked, counting the seconds she’d have left.

Her namesake stood in front of their motley crew, his arms crossed. He’d been scarce at the party, saying it wasn't ‘his scene’ whatever that meant, and hiding in a corner somewhere. Gideon thought she’d been safe when he hadn't seen her run off with Harrow. She was so wrong. 

“Teacher’s pissed,” he said with a shrug.

Gideon hissed. Harrow had gone quiet beside her, fingers twisting nervously. “I figured. Look, I’ll do whatever he needs but I didn't-”

“Save it,” Gideon (Retro) said bluntly. She (very smartly) shut the fuck up.

“Sixth, you can go,” her swordmaster said, motioning towards the door. The Sixth House looked at Gideon and she nodded, urging them both to leave. 

“It was an honor to meet you sir. But for the record, Her Divine Highness is in pain, as is the Reverend Daughter. It would behoove you to save the lecture for later,” Palamedes, once again the best person she knew, said as he packed up his things. Gideon (Version 1.0) merely grunted.

“We’ll be taking our leave then. Reverend Daughter, please make sure to eat something,” Palamedes said as he and his cav walked out the door. Harrow did not react at all, eyes still turned downwards.

There was a long stretch of silence. Gideon (Alpha) loved his long silent pauses. It made her sweat bullets and he delighted in it. Finally, he spoke up. “You scared the ever loving shit out of me.”

Gideon let out a breath. “Yeah I know.”

“I found a blood trail. Of your blood.”

Gideon winced. Dad was always such a little piss baby about her bleeding. He used to lecture her about it for hours. When they were still talking, that is. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I meant to clean that up.”

“I don't give a shit that it wasn't clean, I give a shit about you getting your dumbass killed by that construct down there,” her mentor said coolly.

Gideon looked up at him with wide eyes. “Wait… What?”

Gideon (Senior) sighed. “I know you dip into there every once in a while. I didn't know you’d do it tonight of all nights. And I certainly didn't think you’d drag her into it,” he said, motioning with his chin to Harrow.

“I apologize. I asked Her Divine Highness-”

“No you didn't.” Gideon (Test Version) said, interrupting Harrow. “I know Gideon. She got all excited and convinced you to join in.” 

Harrow didn't have anything to say to that, merely snapping her jaw closed. Gideon patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. “Go ahead, tear me a new one,” she said with a sigh.

Then, the greatest surprise of the night happened. Not Harrow agreeing to come down to the basement with her, not the dance, not finally destroying Gru, but this. Her swordmaster leaned over and patted her on the head. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he said quietly. 

Gideon felt warm and weirdly embarrassed. Like, did he have to show all this affection in front of Harrow? But still, she craved the touch. Her mentor was never one for physical affection, she must have really scared him shitless. “I know,” she whispered back.

He looked satisfied with that, pulling his hand away. “Reverend Daughter, after you’ve eaten I’m sending you back to your rooms. Try not to let the brat pull you into any more of her hijinks.”

Harrow nodded slowly, her face a mess of blood and paint. Gideon wondered if she could convince her to wash it off with a wet towel. Or better yet, join her for a victory shower. Y’know, once O.G. left. “What do you like? I’ll have one of the skeletons bring you something,” she said softly to the girl next to her.

“Bread,” Harrow murmured, sounding more than a little dazed.

“Bread it is. I’ll get that sent up. And as for you,” he said, turning back to Gideon. She gulped. “You left this back in lab two. Don’t lose it again,” with that, her mentor pulled out her beautiful, hulking Ninth sword from his back. Gideon could have kissed him for that.

“Yeeeeessss. Come to mama!” She said, reaching out with grabby hands for her longsword. Harrow stood up suddenly. 

“I have to go. Please have the bread sent to my room,” she said in a rush, pulling herself out of the bed, practically climbing over Gideon to get out of there. 

“Wait Harrow! You’re still not steady, at least let me walk you to your door!” Gideon protested, standing up.

“No! No, thank you. You have wounds to attend to, and I need to check on my retainer. Goodnight, to both of you,” Harrow said with finality as she rushed out of the door.

Gideon went to go walk her anyway, but was stopped by the hand of her mentor. She looked back at him and he shook his head. “Let her be. She’s had a long night, you’ll talk to her in the morning.”

Gideon wanted to argue, but gave up when she looked at her swordmaster’s stern expression. “Fiiinnnnee,” She said with a huff, laying back down on the bed.

Belatedly, she realized she’d managed to accomplish both of Harrow’s wishes. One, not be blamed for their antics and Two, meet with Gideon the First. She smiled at the ceiling. She was gonna convince her for her hand yet.

-

Harrow ran back into the room in a panic, head pounding, breath staggered. She pulled the door shut and sat against it, falling into a heap on the floor.

It was her. It was Gideon who had fought her in the gardens. Her Divine Highness, Precious Heir to the Lord Undying.

What the hell was she playing at?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUH!!!!!!! Harrow finally figured it out! Poor Griddle is gonna have a lot of explaining to do...
> 
> I asked first in chapter one, and I'm asking again now. Can you tell the difference between Phyrra and Gideon the First? They have two big things that set them apart from each other. Go ahead and tell me in the comments if you think you figured it out!
> 
> I had to veeeerrry carefully go over chapter fourteen of GTN to get the IMAGING and RESPONSE. I way way way simplified it from what it was in the books (obv) but you'll have to forgive me for that. Its a v tough scene to write!
> 
> Once again thank ya'll so much for sticking with me! Everyone was so kind and wonderful in the comments that I cracked most of this chapter out in a day on sheer good vibes! Every single one of you is a star and I appreciate you so much!!


	5. Crave You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gideon thinks she's got this engagement thing in the bag. Harrow tells her she's dead wrong. Everyone watching wants to beat the shit out of them.
> 
> Thank you to my loves on TLT discord!!!!!! You're all my babies. Thank you for listening to me talk about making naan and gnocci while I avoided writing this chapter!!!!!
> 
> This was supposed to be a short chapter. Instead, its the longest so far... welp. Enjoy all!!!!

Gideon woke up that morning feeling like she’d just conquered the world. Briefly, she wondered if that's how dear old dad felt Post-Resurrection. If so, she was pretty sure she had him beat by accomplishments. 

Gideon stretched wide in her bed, twisting herself in the messy red sheets. She ached down to her bones in all the right ways, the ways you only felt if you had a long, good fight with a worthy enemy. One part of her kinda regretted killing Ol’ Gru, but that part was easily stamped out when she remembered the look on Harrow’s face when she broke into the IMAGING room. Victorious. Hopeful. Gideon rolled over and buried her head in her pillow, letting out a long groan.

“Well good morning Divine Highness! I hear you had a fun night!” Teacher’s sunny voice echoed in her room as he entered without care. She hated it when he did that. The old fool had no regards for boundaries.

“Hey! What if I’d been naked in here?” Gideon protested fruitlessly.

“Gideon Gaius-Prime, I papered your bottom when you were not but three days old. I can assure you, your nakedness does not bother me,” Teacher said jovially, pulling up a chair next to the side of her bed. 

Gideon lifted her head from her pillow, staring blearily at her caretaker. The bastard had flung the blackout curtains covering her windows wide open, causing a cataclysmic spillage of sun to practically blind her. She hissed at the feeling and hid back in the safe zone.

“Enough of that, you have duties to attend to. Go take a bath and get ready. You’re hosting the first breakfast of the event,” Teacher said, slapping her on the back for good measure.

“But I don’t waaaaaaaannnnaaaaaaaa,” Gideon complained.

“Rule breakers who leave parties early to fight ancient bone constructs do not get what they want,” Teacher said with enough passive aggression to slam Gideon chock full of guilt.

“It was for a good cause! And wait, how did you know about Gru? Did GTF tell you everything already?” Gideon asked, pulling herself out of bed.

“Psh, please. I’ve known you’ve been going into Laboratory Two since you were pre-pubescent. Do you think I am the caretaker of this grand house for nothing?” Teacher asked, motioning to the room around him. 

Gideon winced. Turned out her secret training spot wasn't so secret after all. Oh well. At least she got to slay the damned thing. With Harrow too. The thought of Harrow being at breakfast with the others had her rushing to her closet, rummaging through her casual clothes to the nicer suits Teacher had custom made for her. “Who makes all these damned things anyway?” She asked, only half paying attention. 

Teacher chuckled, swinging his legs happily around while Gideon picked over her closet with a critical eye. “I have my ways little one.”

Gideon turned back to her caretaker. “If anyone is the ‘little one’ here it's you, old man. I could throw you out of my room if I wanted, you know,” It was an argument they’d been having for the past ten of so years. Gideon shot passed Teacher in height when she was about nine years old and delighted in reminding him of that fact.

“And must I remind you, you’d have to catch me first. I’m very spry,” He said with an absolutely awful wink.

“Boo, leave me to get ready you evil gremlin.”

“How did I raise such a rude child? Sweet and merciful King Undying where did I go wrong?” Teacher said, a huge smile crossing his face as he said the words. Gideon rolled her eyes and pushed the old man out of the room.

“Gimme like half an hour okay? I’ll be nice and presentable, I promise,” Gideon called out to Teacher.

“Yes and I’ve heard that before. I’ll come get you then, and if you’re a second late I’ll have Gideon the First force you to run laps all around Canaan House.”

Now that was a good threat. Gideon hated running more than she hated bland food and silence. “Fine, now go!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Teacher said, bouncing out of the room in his usual, jaunty way. Gideon sighed and went into the bathroom, auto doors closing shut behind her. She programmed the lock, though it was really more of a formality. Knowing Teacher, he’d find a way to barge in anyway. But she liked the safety of it.

Originally, Gideon had lived in a smaller nursery room near Teacher and his two priest helpers. But when she was thirteen and determined to live the high life (or, as high of a life as she could, being trapped in Canaan House), she’d moved all her stuff to the room with the most luxurious bathroom. In Gideon’s mind, there were very few things in life that a long hot bath couldn't fix. Sore muscles? Bath. Dad forgets you on your birthday for the third year in a row? Bath. Gideon the First yelled at you for yet another failed escape attempt? Bath time baby! 

Gideon set the water to boiling hot and brushed her teeth while it filled up. She still looked pretty beat up, but luckily the swelling had gone down in the middle of the night. She had to hand it to Gru, he hadn't messed up her money maker. Thank dad for small things, she thought.

Once the bath was full Gideon stripped off her clothes and sat down. The feeling of the hot water soothed her muscles, and her nerves, almost instantly. She leaned back and sighed, letting herself relax before a long day of playing at Divine Highness work. Gideon remembered something Harrow’s attendant had mentioned last night. That the Ninth didn't even have showers, let alone baths. Her mind reeled with possibilities of showing Harrow her first relaxing soak.

How would she look, she wondered, with all that skull makeup dripping off. Gideon thought about that tiny girl sitting between her legs and groaned. She had no idea of what the Ninth House heir looked like under her clothes, besides ‘tiny’. Harrow certainly liked her layers. But Gideon was excited to find out what lay beneath.

Gideon groaned and dipped her head under the water. Would they live here after the engagement went through, or would they live on the Ninth? She was pretty sure Harrow’s folks were still kicking. Maybe they’d live in Canaan House until they passed, then Harow would take up the Reverend Mother mantel. Wait if Harrow was gonna be Reverend Mother, would that make Gideon Reverend Mother as well? Just when she thought she’d escaped the terrible name confusion, she found a new one to drive her crazy.

Gideon broke the surface with a loud, crashing noise as water spilled over the edge of the giant tub. Damnit, Teacher was gonna complain that she soaked the bath rugs again. Glancing at the clock, Gideon realized she only had ten more minutes to get ready before she’d be dragged to breakfast. Quickly she shampooed her hair and scrubbed herself down with the efficiency of a Cohort officer cleaning a rifle. Then she jumped out of the tub, dried off as best she could then ran back to her closet.

Most of the suits Teacher had made were white, supposedly a neutral color that represented the First House, despite white also being the color of the Eighth. But Gideon was pretty sure they’d just stolen it for themselves. Sounded like something Mercymorn would do. However, he’d also commissioned her a few in other House colors, with the idea being that she’d mix the colors into her wardrobe as the two week even passed. Well, fuck waiting. Gideon looked great in black, and what better way to let Harrow know she was serious than dressing accordingly.

To placate Teacher she put a white shirt underneath the blazer, if only to distract briefly from the blatant favoritism. She really didn't know why they had to keep playing this charade that she might pick anyone. At least half the people attending knew right from the gate who Gideon would choose. Anyone who didn’t was just kidding themselves.

With just seconds to spare, Gideon tugged on her trousers. Right on schedule, Teacher skipped inside, looking almost a little disappointed that he didn't get to drag her into action like usual. Gideon grinned at her caretaker. “Well, how do I look?” she asked, twirling around for the old man.

He sighed. “What did we say about not making your choice known so early?” 

Gideon laughed. “It's a color Teacher! A color, might I add, that happens to look very nice on me. I’m sure Abigail and Pal would agree.”

“That’s because they’re your friend's child,” Teacher lectured. “But… Since we are running late, and you at least had the decency to dress in at least a variety of colors, I will allow it. If, you agree not to sit with the Reverend Daughter.”

Gideon made a particularly rude gesture at her caretaker. “Nope! Request denied! Teacher, I’m this close to convincing her to marry me. If I let up now she might think I’m just playing with her feelings!” 

Teacher gave her a well-rounded look of someone who absolutely did not care. “Too bad. You already almost destroyed my poor nerves when you escaped the ball yesterday. I’m not allowing anything else ‘off-book’ to happen for the next two weeks. Understood?”

Gideon sighed low and loud. “Understood. I’ll sit next to Palamedes then.”

“No you won’t,” Teacher sing-sanged as he walked out of the door, gesturing for Gideon to follow.

“Whaaaaaat? Why not!”

“Because you are branching out. No sitting with Abigail Pent or Dulcinea Septimus either.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Langage, dear child. There are other house heirs you don't know so well. What about the Third Twins? They seem the agreeable sort.”

Gideon liked Coronabeth just fine, she was pretty and knew her way around a sword. But her sister was a total harpy and their shared cav wasn't much better. “Come on! The Third? Really!?”

“You can sit with them or the Eighth House if you like.”

Gideon shuddered. “Third it is!”

-

Harrow woke up that morning feeling as if she’d just watched her future crumple and ruin before her very eyes. Last night she’d entered their rooms with a start, scaring the wits out of her witless cavalier. She hadn't explained anything about where she’d been or what she’d been up to with the other two members of her house, just took a quick sonic and laid in her bed, mind reeling until unconsciousness finally took her and she fell into a fitful sleep.

When she’d finally gotten up she was exhausted, every bone in her body creaking with the exertion of yesterday. Her head pounded from both a lack of sleep and the revelations of last night. Harrow had thought Gid- Her Divine Highness was… was not the kind of person to play such cruel tricks on another person. But of course, she was wrong. And Harrow detested being wrong.

“My lady, you must get up. There's a breakfast being thrown in the dining hall by Her Divine Highness. All heirs are expected to attend,” Aiglamene called from the window stoop where she’d been polishing her blade. 

Harrow sat up with a start. “I am not feeling well. Give Her Divine Highness and the rest of those in attendance my regards but I will not be going.”

“Oh but lady Harrowhark, the food will be quite delicious. Are you sure you will not make one tiny appearance?” Ortus asked hopefully.

She glared at her cavalier. “You are welcome to go in my stead. But I will not be leaving these rooms until I feel better.”

“Dipped into the wine last night, eh? Come now, my lady, there's no shame in being a little hung over,” Aiglamene said, still not looking up from her sword. 

Harrow felt her face redden with anger. “I did not drink anything like that! I simply do not feel well. Please leave so I may have some silence to recuperate in.”

“I cannot my lady. You’ve been summoned to a breakfast. As part of your mothers commands, I am to drag you there, kicking and screaming in your nightgown if I must,” Aiglamene said.

Harrow wanted to stomp around like an angry child. “You must be kidding!”

“Afraid not. So will you get ready as you should, or will you force me to drag you?” Aiglamene asked, voice even.

Harrow knew she’d do it too. Aiglamene would do anything for the Ninth. “Fine. I will make a brief appearance, as Ortus mentioned. Then I demand to be allowed to spend the rest of the day in these rooms, alone.”

Aiglamene nodded, considering the compromise. “As long as you attend dinner, and don’t get any summonses in that time, I’ll agree to those terms.”

Harrow breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't the best, but she’d significantly limited her chances of having to speak with Her Divine Highness. It would have to do for now. “Fine. When are we to leave for breakfast?” she asked.

“In a half hour, my lady,” Ortus droned. He was sitting on the chair next to Aiglamene, his nose buried in one of the several pieces of flimsy he had scribbled his ‘master work’ on. 

“I’ll be in the bathroom preparing then. Retrieve me when it is time to leave,” Harrow said, pulling herself out of bed and marching to the bathroom. When the auto doors slammed behind her she let out a loud, agonized moan. 

She’d be forced to visit politely with Her Divine Highness for the next two weeks, knowing what she’d done to her. Had she pulled a similar prank on all the other heirs? No, it was likely she singled out Harrow for some vicious joke at the Ninth House’s expense. Her Divine Highness found the whole of her House to be an atrocious excuse for a people and wanted to humiliate them publicly, plummeting their already sorry reputations into unsalvageable wreckage. 

She’d likely planned this with the other House’s. That would explain all the strange behavior with the Fifth and the Seventh. Even the Sixth was pulled into it! She would have thought better of a planet of scholars, but she supposed that's what happened when Her Divine Highness asked for a favor. Harrow yearned to make them all pay. Rip their bones from their flesh and dance them around as they all died slow and painful deaths. But that would endanger the Ninth. 

She splashed her face with the water from the faucet, reveling in the waste of such a precious resource. She thought again of Her Divine Highness and her easy going manner. Her suspicions had been confirmed. It was a simple thing to be so friendly when you had the whole universe bending to your will. 

Harrow had thought… Well it didn't matter what she thought now. The facts were as follows: Her Divine Highness had greeted her yesterday morning with a request to fight. She asked her that positively deviant question and then was dragged away by Gideon The First. Then she continuously approached her in the guise of Her Divine Highness, likely to get her to go with her to- That was it!

Harrow looked up at herself in the mirror. This joke wasn’t merely a funny game at her expense, though Her Divine Highness likely enjoyed the teasing nonetheless. It was for the bone construct! She had said it herself, she’d spent years trying to defeat that thing! Logically, asking a bone magician for help would make the most sense! Gi- Her Divine Highness had even mentioned her skills when they first met! 

Judging by those parameters the truth suddenly became clear. She had planned on tricking Harrow into thinking she would marry her as means to convince her to go to Laboratory Two, then once she was able to defeat the bone construct she’d break the engagement, or worse, claim it was never real in the first place. Her plans were halted in the gardens, so she had to improvise at the ball, pulling all the other House heirs into it as well. She used the veneer of a happy-go-lucky princess to trick Harrow. Because her House was impoverished, because she was physically weak.

Harrow swore. How could she be so foolish to get wrapped up in something so inane. All because Her Divine Highness wanted to solve a childhood puzzle. She allowed herself to be led along by a crooked smile and strong arms. Harrow would never forgive herself for this.

She looked at the clock. It was almost time to leave. Aiglamene was right. She could not stay locked up in her rooms. Then that atrocious woman would win. She would simply perform her duties to absolute perfection, then leave. The Ninth would stay unblemished, and Harrow could put this whole messy business behind her. 

Quickly she picked up her brushes and painted her face. There wasn't enough time to paint The Chain pattern. But there was an older Anastasian pattern she’d used when she was younger that made quite the sight. She dashed on the grease paint, conscious of the time she had left, then inspected her work. It wasn't bad. Perhaps a little simple for the Reverend Daughter but no one here besides Aiglamene and Ortus would know that. Satisfied, Harrow left the bathroom.

“Where are my usual robes?” Harrow asked, moving towards her luggage. 

“I had Ortus hang them up, my lady. They’ll be in the wardrobe next to the bed.”

Normally, Harrow might argue about that with her retainer. But she was on a mission. She swung the heavy wooden doors open and examined the insides. Her clothing was all ancient and worn, but properly cared for all the same. Her mother had insisted on sending Harrow with all the best the Ninth had available to it. There was a long dress inside. It was her grandmothers, and her mothers before it if Harrow remembered correctly. It wasn't high fashion, but it was elegant. It would have to do. 

“Almost ready, my lady?” Aiglamene asked from the front room. 

“Yes, just another minute.”

Yes. The dress would do nicely.

-

Gideon tapped her nails restlessly against the long polished table as necros and their cavs began to file into the dining room. Gideon had used this room maybe five times in her whole life, and that was all whenever her dad visited with his whole band of Lyctors in tow. She had a fond memory of the time Augustine had flung an entire glass of wine right in Mercy’s face when they’d been arguing. 

Gideon shook herself away from her reverie. Most of the heirs had arrived, except for Dulcie (who, due to her illness, was never required to be on time to anything) or Harrow. She fruitlessly checked her watch for the millionth time that morning when Palamedes tapped her on the shoulder.

“Ah fuck! Pal you scared the shit out of me!” Gideon said with a near-snarl. The Sixth House heir put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Forgive me, I wanted to check on you. Any soreness or prolonged pain I should worry about?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to her.

“Nah, just the usual bumps and bruises. Did your retainer get pissed that you were out so late?”

Palamedes shook his head. “Zeta has been too busy fawning over the ancient architecture to worry about us. I’m fairly certain she arrived back at our rooms later than Cam and I.”

“With the distinct scent of dust on her clothes. Careful Divine Highness, the Sixth may find all your dirty secrets,” Camilla said, standing casually behind her necro.

“Welp, that’s the old man’s problem, not mine. Tell her to put back any skin mags she finds though, I’ve got a collection going.”

Palamedes sighed. “I see you’re not being subtle about this,” he said, pointing to her outfit. 

“I figured I’d cut out the fat for anyone not already in the know. Plus, I look real good in black.” Gideon said, waggling her eyebrows at her friends.

“You do! Good morning all!” Abigail said with enough cheer to power Dominicus for a year. She stretched out her arms to Gideon, waiting for an embrace.

“Hey, morning,” Gideon said, accepting the hug from the Fifth House heir and her husband, who’d walked in with her just a moment ago. 

“Morning to you as well. We hear you had a very exciting night last night,” Magnus said, elbowing Gideon in the ribs. He hit a bruise right where it hurt and she hissed.

“Oh Magnus, don’t go around poking people. Especially people who fought giant bone constructs. Is it true there's a Lyctor lab buried right under our feet?” Abigail asked excitedly.

“Wait wait wait. How’d you know about all that?” Gideon asked, suddenly quite confused. 

Palamedes looked away suspiciously. “Et tu, Sexpal?”

Camilla groaned next to him. “Dulcinea ran into us on our way back. He caved.”

“She just asked a few questions! She can be very persuasive, you know!” Palamedes argued.

“Dude, you caved so fast,” Gideon said with amazement.

“First love does die hard, doesn't it?” Magnus mused, rubbing Palamedes’ head.

“Leave him be. We all like Dulcie, I’m sure she’s kept it between us,” Abigail said with assurance.

It was that moment, of course, that Dulcinea chose to stride in on her crutches, closed in next to Protesilaus and, to the surprise of the entire room, the Reverend Daughter herself. “As I was saying Harrow- may I call you Harrow? Well I just think it was so amazing what you did in the laboratory! You solved an ancient mystery, that has to make a nun of the Locked Tomb very happy!” 

Gideon felt her heart drop. Harrow looked like a vengeful wraith in that dress, all dark layers and mystery. She was absolutely incredible. Harrow walked into the room, shoes clacking against the polish floor as she spoke with Dulcinea. “It was an interesting test of my abilities. Nothing more.”

Gideon stood up, intent on going up and greeting Harrow properly, until Teacher clapped his hands. “Now that everyone has arrived, Her Divine Highness will say a few words. Please take your seats at your assigned placard.”

Those in the room shuffled about as people found their assigned seats. At the urging of Teacher, Gideon started the speech he’d forced her to memorize last week. “Hey everyone, I’m really glad you all could come for this celebration. I know it's a bit unorthodox, but those of us in the First House are very glad you’re all here. I hope to get to know each and every one of you as we spend the next two weeks together. With all that said, please enjoy the grub!”

Gideon let out a sigh as she fell back into her chair at the head of the table. God she hated speeches. They were so fake. Coronabeth sat at her left while her sister sat on the other side. Gideon glared at Teacher. He had thoroughly close lined her with the Third House twins.

“So, Divine Highness, how have you enjoyed this event so far?” Corona asked, looking positively Third with her batting eyelashes and gold robes glowing. 

“I mean, yeah it's been good so far,” Gideon said halfheartedly. Harrow had been seated across the table next to Dulcinea, who seemed to be taking great joy in talking her ear off. She looked… stressed somehow. Her paint wasn't nearly as intricate as it had been yesterday. Something was bothering her. Gideon counted down the seconds till this stupid banquet was over so she could finally go talk to her.

“Will you be showing all of us the secret Lyctor Laboratories? Or is that honor reserved for Ninth House cultists?” Ianthe asked with a sneer. 

“What Ianthe means is that we’d be so happy to see them. Might we request a private tour?” Coronabeth asked, leaning forward. Gideon had to give the Princess of Ida full props for the subtle arms-pushed-together-for-maximum-titty move. If she’d caught her two years ago, Gideon would have fallen flat on her face to impress her.

“I’m uh- not too sure about that. Ask Teacher maybe?” Gideon said, eyes darting back to Harrow. She was twisting her fingers together like she had last night when Gideon (Patient Zero) was lecturing them. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Excuse us!” The man in question announced as a dozen skeletons came tramping in, carrying weighty platters of food. Magnus looked immensely excited and had Gideon not been so damned worried about Harrow she’d probably share in the joy. 

There were a few quiet murmurs throughout the room as skeletons dished out the meal to their guests. Gideon delighted in watching Camilla bully Palamedes into adding an extra portion to his meal, while Naberius Tern pouted in his seat next to them. Harrow, she noticed, had denied pretty much all of the food but for two rolls and a cup of clear broth.

“Oh Harrow, you must take a little bit more. For my sake at least, I cannot keep half of this stuff down. But I’m sure you’ll have no problem!” Dulcinea said from her spot next to the Reverend Daughter.

“No, thank you. We typically fast until midday on the Ninth. I’m sure a heavy meal so early will disturb my stomach,” Harrow said, tearing one of the rolls into little bits on her plate.

“What of your cavalier then? He seems to be having no troubles,” Indeed, Ortus the Ninth was enjoying heaping plates of everything and couldn't be happier about it.

“Ortus will regret eating that much as the day wears on,” Harrow said, glaring at her cav. He simply looked away and continued feasting.

Gideon was pulled out of her stupor by one of the skeletons motioning to its platter. She took a page from Ortus’ book and took everything that was on offer. Hey, if she couldn't enjoy Harrow’s company, she could at least enjoy the food, right?

Plus there was an added bonus. People were less likely to ask you questions if they saw you stuffing your face hole, Gideon had learned that from experience. Unfortunately for her, this usual law of the universe didn't seem to affect the Tridentarius twins.

“So, Divine Highness. Have you thought carefully about your prospects here? I mean, everyone has been so lovely so far! But when it comes to choosing a marriage partner, you have to be very careful, you know?” Coronabeth said, propping her arms up on the table.

“Corona, while I respect the game, Her Divine Highness appears to be as dense as a brick wall,” Ianthe said haughtily. She really just did not give a fuck, huh?

Their cav, an absolute ingrate of a man named Nabirus Tern, choked on a bread roll next to Coronabeth. “Why not decide all this via a tournament? Put a bunch of necros and their cavs in one arena and force them to duke it out. Now that sounds like a hell of a way to meet your spouse.”

Gideon unfortunately agreed with the asshat cav. That did sound sick as fuck. “Ask my dad. He arranged most of this with the priests.”

“Oh the Emperor himself? You really are his precious treasure, aren't you Divine Highness? Will he be arriving soon?” Coronabeth said with an air of forced cheerfulness.

Suddenly Gideon wasn't hungry anymore. “Excuse me, I’ve gotta speak with Teacher for a moment,” she said. Without waiting for an affirmative from her table partners, she pushed out her chair and made a beeline for her caretaker.

“Where’s Gideon the First?” She asked without preamble, after dragging Teacher out of everyone’s ear shot.

“Why child? You know he doesn't like these sorts of things.”

Gideon sighed. “Because you won’t let me talk to my friends, you won’t let me talk to Harrow and I am so annoyed right now I’m going to explode. Let me take a quick break to spar with O.G. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior after I burn off a little energy.”

Teacher brushed her off with a ‘harumph’. “Not happening. We’ll wrap up the meal soon, why not just enjoy the food?”

“They keep asking about the old man.”

That gave Teacher pause. He looked up at her, big watery eyes masking a keen intellect and one hell of a capacity for keeping secrets. “I’m sorry dear. Perhaps we’ll cut the breakfast short then, hm?”

Gideon was so grateful she could have hugged the old priest. So she did. Taking his little body up into her arms and squeezing the life out of him, Gideon couldn't have loved him more if he were her real father. “Thanks Teacher.”

“No thank you’s necessary. Endure this for twenty more minutes, then I’ll make morning announcements. Will that do?”

Gideon put the little man down. “It’ll have to.”

-

Harrow picked at her food with annoyance, hoping that no one would notice she hadn't put any in her mouth for at least a half hour. At the head of the table, Her Divine Highness was chatting along with the Third House heirs, one of whom seemed to be attempting to push her breasts into the stratosphere. Harrow looked away. Her Divine Highness has a very clear type. It wasn't likely now that she’d gotten what she wanted that she’d ever dare speak to Harrow again. She was relieved. Yes, very relieved.

“So Harrowhark, what is it like on the Ninth? I’ve heard all the rumors of course, but I highly doubt most of them are anything more than hyperbole,” Dulcinea Septimus asked, her manner as light as her figure.

“We live simply as servants of the Locked Tomb. We study, pray and live in harmony with death itself,” Harrow said, repeating a mantra she’d heard her great aunts whisper for years.

“It must be such a contrast to be here. Do you like it?”

Harrow thought for a moment. She didn't necessarily dislike being in the First House. The closeness to Dominicus left the planet hot, and the noises of what she presumed to be insect life were distracting but despite that it was… enjoyable. Were circumstances different, staying here wouldn't be terrible. “I haven't been here long enough to form an opinion I’m afraid.”

Dulcinea clapped happily. “It’s a good thing we have two weeks then! Do you think whoever marries Her Divine Highness will live here? I certainly hope so, for I intend to befriend them so I can visit all the time!”

Harrow rubbed the back of her neck. “Aren't you competing for her hand?” Everyone besides the Fifth and the Sixth seemed to be. 

“Oh goodness no! I adore Her Divine Highness, but I’d make a terrible match. I’m ill so often, I’ll likely drop dead before the wedding!” She said that with such an eerie cheer that Harrow could not help but respect it. Just a little. 

“Besides-” Dulcinea continued, whispering conspiratorially to Harrow. “I hear she already made her decision.”

“Dulcie…” Palamedes Sextus said warningly. What grown adult would allow themselves to be called Dulcie? Harrow thought once again, astounded. 

“Psh Pal! It’s alright, Harrow can be trusted.”

“Then if she’s made her decision, why all the pomp and circumstance?” Harrow asked. Not that she cared. 

Palamedes sighed and took off his glasses, cleaning the lenses with a cloth his cavalier handed him moments ago. “I don’t believe she’s asked her formally yet. We’d all know by now. I believe for the sake of petty politics we are all expected to wait around for the answer most of us have already discerned.”

Harrow nodded. The Third Princess then. It was a logical choice. “I see. So what are we all supposed to do in the intervening time while Her Divine Highness works up the courage to ask for her hand?”

Dulcinea and Palamedes shot each other a confused look. “Well… I was planning on enjoying some time on a warm planet. The Sixth House is situated in a freezing tundra, you see. Then, after I’ve absorbed enough of Dominicus’ rays, I’ll be inspecting all the secrets Canaan House has to offer.”

That had Harrow leaning in. “Will you be exploring the basement then?”

Palamedes nodded. “Yes, along with some of the rooms littered about. You’re welcome to join Cam and I on our search.”

Harrow bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know anything of the Sixth besides their scholarly pursuits. She supposed she owed them a favor after they assisted in reviving her, but considering their ties to Her Divine Highness it was better that she keep her distance. “No thank you. I’ll be conducting my own private investigation.”

Abigail, who had been placed a couple seats from Harrow and Dulcinea peaked her head over. “Oh my, will you be looking into the laboratories too then Reverend Daughter? I knew I sensed a kindred soul in you!”

Harrow wanted to protest the label, but before she could, Her Divine Highness had gotten out of her seat and pulled her retainer aside, talking low to the man in a corner. “Looks like Gideon is pissed,” Camilla the Sixth said to her necromancer.

“Looks like.”

Magnus let out a sigh. “There's only one thing that can set Gideon off like that.”

Those sitting around Harrow nodded. Clearly it was another thing she had not intended to share with the Ninth House. Palamedes noticed her confusion and lowered his voice. “Her Divine Highness has a… difficult relationship with her father. Just the mention of him can send her storming off.”

Harrow blinked. “Why?” She asked, before she could stop herself.

Those around her shrugged. “He seems a bit distant is all. They had this falling out a while ago… You’d be best to ask her yourself. I’m sure she’d be happy to explain,” Magnus said.

Harrow looked back down at her plate. She was, admittedly, a bit curious. She never knew much about the King Undying besides the usual propaganda reports. But if it required talking to Her Divine Highness she would have to live without the knowledge. 

A few minutes passed and the princess herself walked back to her chair, looking to be in far higher spirits than she once was. She chatted happily with those around her, ate enough food to cripple a Ninth House nun, and laughed loudly. Harrow caught her eye and she grinned, waving excitedly at her. Harrow looked away before she was distracted.

It was best to be distant. It was better this way.

-

In twenty minutes on the dot, Teacher kept his promise and rang the gong. “People! If I might have your attention! We’ll be concluding meal time for the morning. Lunch will be served at leisure throughout the afternoon and dinner will be taken at eight o’clock on the dot. In the meantime, please enjoy the whole of Canaan House! Her Divine Highness will carve out time to spend with each of you, so please do not pick any fights on her account,” Gideon let out a sigh of relief as everyone began to stand up, situating themselves in groups for after meal chatter. 

To either her great luck or the meddling of her friends, Gideon found Harrow in a conversation between the Fifth, the Sixth, and the Seventh. She looked desperately uncomfortable and Gideon reveled in getting to be the one to rescue her. 

“Well! That was a fun way to start the day. You know, I don’t think I’ve had a meal with so many people since I was a child!” Abigail said to the group as Gideon walked up to them.

“Uh, hey everyone. Harrow, do you mind if I speak with you for a minute?” She asked, hands stuffed in her pockets. Her terrible, awful friends all looked at each other, then began filing out of the room conspicuously. 

Harrow looked around and the suddenly much more empty room, a bit startled. “Do you mind walking with me?” Gideon asked, holding her hand out to the Ninth House scion. 

“I do not believe that would be appropriate,” Harrow said, glancing back at her cav. Ah right. All the hubbub about last night probably got her in a bit of trouble with her retainers. 

“Hey, no worries. It’ll be quick I promise. Ortus!” She called out to the big cav who’d been hovering near the door. “Do you mind if I speak to the Reverend Daughter alone?”

“Of course not. I will go inform Aiglamene that lady Harrowhark will be returning to our rooms later.”

Gideon grinned at the man. “Thanks!”

He nodded at her and scurried out of the room. Harrow had an aghast look on her face and Gideon used the moment to take her hand. “Walk with me?” She asked, holding the hand up to her lips.

Harrow’s eyes grew as big as dinner plates and she quickly ripped her hand away. “What do you need Divine Highness?”

Gideon ran her rejected hand through her hair. “Are you okay? I mean after yesterday and everything. You look a little down.”

By then, the room was well and truly quiet, with only the clatter of skeletons cleaning off the table making any noise at all. Harrow looked up at her, eyes dark and angry. “I am not ‘down’ Divine Highness. I am annoyed. Greatly annoyed.”

Gideon’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Shit, really? What can I do.”

Harrow looked at her with fury, biting at her lips in a way that was probably supposed to convey anger but instead was very distracting to Gideon’s hormone addled brain. “You can leave me alone for one. You’ve gotten what you needed from me, I do not understand why you continue this- this stupid-”

“Wait wait wait wait wait. What do you mean I ‘got what I needed from you’,” Gideon asked, more confused than ever. Harrow was annoyed with her? Why?

“You needed help to destroy the bone construct. I understand that. If you had just explained that to me from the beginning instead of pulling this whole charade I would have agreed!” Harrow argued, her feet stamping on the wooden floors for effect. 

Scratch that. Now Gideon was officially more confused than ever. “You think I approached you to help me kill Gru?”

Harrow let out an annoyed little growl that even now Gideon found very, very cute. “Yes! Obviously! That was what all that in the garden was about! That stupid- the stupid thing you said-”

“I asked you to marry me,” Gideon said, now starting to see the full picture. Oh fuck. Oh shit. She forgot to tell her. She probably figured it out last night when O.G. came to check up on her. That was why she left so suddenly. Fuck, she meant to tell her after Gru, but the fainting and the panic-

“Yes! I do not know how you were raised, Divine Highness but on the Ninth we do not joke about such things!” Harrow yelled, hands balled up into fists.

“What if I wasn't joking?” Gideon asked. Damnit. Damnit she really didn't want to ask her this way… for the second time.

Harrow stared up at her, shock riddled throughout her features. Then she let out a hollow, weak little laugh. “I will not allow you to continue this stupid game you think you’re playing. You find the Ninth disgusting? Awful little cultists hiding out in the furthest corner of the galaxy? Fine! But I will not allow you to disrespect us so publicly.”

Wow this was going very badly. Gideon’s idiot brain couldn't think, she was too busy staring at Harrow as she raved. Fuck. “I wasn't- I don’t-”

“You act so careless, I suppose that's to be expected from the daughter of God. But why must you subject me to it? Talking to me outside in the gardens, dancing with me, you tore the cuffs of my dress, you know!” She said, adding that last bit as if it was an afterthought. “And all of that was just for you to complete some childhood game. Well congratulations! I have finished my duty to you. You may go play with someone else's feelings, I for one will not allow this to go any further.”

Gideon reached out her hands and Harrow pulled away. “Harrow-”

“Do. Not. I am the Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus. I had allowed you to call me ‘Harrow’ under the impression we might one day be allied. But I would rather watch the whole of Drearburr burn than let you play with my feelings any longer.”

With that, Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus stormed out of the dining hall, leaving behind one deeply rattled Gideon Gauis-Prime, Her Divine Highness and Precious Heir to the Lord Undying. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Is everything alright child?” Teacher asked, wandering in a few minutes after Harrow left. Gideon stood there in a stupor, skeletons cleaning around her as if nothing was wrong. She had to fix this. Fast.

“How do you get my clothes made?” Gideon asked suddenly. She would make this up to Harrow. She’d explain everything. She just had to convince her to sit down and talk to her. 

“I thought I told you I had my ways,” Teacher said playfully.

“I know I know. I just- I really messed up with Harrow. Big time. I’d like to do something nice for her. Could I commission her a dress? I think I really messed up the one she wore to the ball.”

Teacher sighed. “Maybe if you two hadn't been traipsing around ancient catacombs her lovely Ninth gown wouldn't have been ruined.”

“Teacher-”

The old man held up his hands. “Yes, yes I know. If you can promise me you’ll attend all the other Houses, I will have a lovely gown made to replace the one that was ruined.”

“There's another thing too. You’re not gonna like it.”

Teacher narrowed his eyes. “Try me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> Privately, I call this chapter TEACHER IS THE BEST SURROGATE DAD EVER! Bc he is. Love this funky little man.
> 
> Or: Gideon you moron, stop getting distracted by the pretty girl and actually talk to her with your words.
> 
> Or: Harrow stop immediately assuming everyone is out to get you.
> 
> Outfits for everyone: https://imgur.com/a/g9weUhm
> 
> So... please don't kill me. I promise it's all gonna work out gorgeously, you just gotta stick with me here. Also... because I am The Worst, I may be changing this from 7 chapters to 9... we'll see how it goes. 
> 
> To all those that have stuck with this silly ball!au fic thank you, you have my forever love. If you enjoyed this chapter, or liked the drama or what have you, please let me know. It heals my soul. There will be some delicious cuteness and kissing in the next couple chapters I swear!!!!!


	6. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ESTEEMED READERS WE HAVE LIFT OFF!!! I call this chapter "Holy shit they're actually telling each other things"
> 
> Though I normally leave this off until the end, my wonderful, glorious friend Ty (aka: @thylluan on twitter) made some absolutely stunning artwork that inspired me to write... this whole fic???????? The link is right here: https://imgur.com/a/9ts2qrm
> 
> (Please enjoy)
> 
> ((its my favorite thing in the whole world))
> 
> (((NSFW version at the end of the fic ;))))

Harrow had objected to the dress at first. 

“My lady, we have very few options here,” Aiglamene said, not quite apologetic, but sincere nonetheless. 

Harrow should have suspected something was happening the last few weeks before they left the Ninth House. Crux and Aiglamene had been hovering constantly, making sure she’d been eating far more than her usual fill, checking to see that she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth before bed like she was five years old. Asking her often how much she’d slept the night before. She’d written it off as some last ditch sentimentality before she was set to depart, but oh how wrong she’d been.

Like livestock, they’d been preparing her for slaughter.

Harrow looked at the flimsy black fabric, Ninth in color but not in origin. It was sleeveless and short, with some kind of corset that laced under her bust. If that was supposed to make her look less flat it would doubtlessly fail, she thought wryly. 

“Where in the whole of the Dominicus system did we have the money for such a thing? Had I known our coffers were so full I’d have commissioned a new wing of the library,” she told her retainer.

“It was a gift, my lady. From Her Divine Highness.”

Harrow twisted one of the bone studs in her ears nervously. She had not spoken to Her Divine Highness since the incident in the dining hall three days ago. Harrow had been sure she’d made herself perfectly clear when she confronted the princess, she had no intention of playing her game. For once, she thought the spoiled daughter of the King Undying had listened. Since that argument Her Divine Highness had steered clear of Harrow, preferring instead to talk to her usual conspirators and of course the Third Princess.

Which Harrow was happy with. Obviously. Until this morning, when an invitation arrived carried on a platter by a skeleton construct. 

“I know you’re not happy with this-”

“Of course not! My own people plotting behind my back to marry me off to some- unknown entity! Why would I be happy with that?” she asked, turning to look at Aiglamene. She hadn't told her about the confrontation of course, but she assumed she’d heard the rumors. Most of the residents of Canaan House had been giving her the strangest looks since that day.

“You know as well as I that the Ninth is in dire straits. Anything that I can do to relieve the burden I will, as I know you would.”

Harrow softened a touch at that. Aiglamene might frustrate her, but she was all Ninth. A part of her home she was desperate to protect. She was an octogenarian; at her age she should be relaxing in her cell, stooling out tales of her life in her memoirs, rising only for morning prayers. Instead she was thousands of miles from home attempting to help the young Reverend Daughter seduce a Princess. The sacrifice did not go unnoticed, even if it was bothersome. “She won’t want me, you know,” Harrow had made sure of that.

Aiglamene raised her eyebrows. “She spoke with you longer than anyone else at that ball. You fought a damned monster together.”

Harrow scoffed at that. “She found us to be a curiosity, nothing more. Once her curiosity is sated, she’ll send us on our way.”

“Then take advantage of that time. Get to know her properly, use your wit. You’ve a sharp mind, my Lady, employ it well.”

Harrow rubbed her neck, feeling at the freshly trimmed edges of her short hair. “And if I fail?”

Aiglamene put both hands on her shoulders, startling Harrow to her core. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched her so informally. At least someone of the Ninth. She recalled with painful clarity the feeling of Her Divine Highness’ big hands wrapped around her wrists and shuddered, quite involuntarily. “Then we will find another avenue. But this is, at the current moment, our best option.”

Harrow reached out to touch the dress. It was softer than any fabric she’d felt before; even the oldest, most threadbare of her robes could not compare to the cool, smooth texture. For a horrifying moment she realized their poverty must have been on full display this entire visit, and Her Divine Highness saw fit to clothe her more appropriately if they were to be seen together. She snatched her hand back. 

“How much longer until dinner?” It was clear to her now that the princess had been gathering her courage since the confrontation. She would sit her down at the table, scream herself hoarse, then send the Ninth home. Harrow took a deep breath. It would be humiliating. But at least Her Divine Highness had the grace to do it privately. Then at last she’d be gone.

“About an hour. Then Ortus will walk you over, you’ll have your time with Her Divine Highness and he’ll come back to pick you up.”

Harrow scrunched up her nose. “Will she be providing a chaperone then?” Not that she preferred Ortus necessarily. God knows if she wanted to cool Her Divine Highness’ temper, a rousing rendition of the Noniad wasn't where she’d start. But at least Ortus was a familiar face. 

“According to the invitation you’ll have none.”

Harrow flushed. “No chaperones? Does she expect each of the heirs to provide some sort of ‘special service’ at these dinners?” she asked, scandalized.

“As far as I’ve heard, you’re the only person who has received an invitation, my lady.”

Harrow froze up. This was it. There would be no more chances to save the Ninth House. Harrow had thoroughly ruined that with one angry outburst. “Then I must dress quickly. Where is my grease paint?”

Aiglamene shifted on her faux-leg. “You’ll wear a veil tonight, without the paint.”

Harrow blinked at her. “Without… paint?”

Aiglamene nodded. “You have lovely skin. We are using everything that we have, remember?”

Harrow bit back a scathing remark. She was only trying to save them; she kept repeating that to herself like a mantra. “It's inappropriate.”

“On the Ninth. But we are not on the Ninth. You’ll only be seen by her and a smattering of domestic skeletons. Your pride will survive the night.”

Harrow gnawed at her lip. She had failed Aiglamene already. The least she could do for the woman was go along with her last ditch efforts. “Where do we begin?”

-

Harrow had patently refused to walk out bare, so over the protests of both Ortus and Aiglamene she wore a cloak over her shoulders, fastened tightly. She would wear these frivolous fashions of the First House if need be, but she would not trample down sacred halls half naked. 

The meal was being served on the terrace overlooking the beach, beautiful in its decay, with overgrown vines crawling up the pillars that had not already crumbled to dust. Her Divine Highness was already there, pacing back and forth like a wild cat. Harrow bit the inside of her cheek. She was graceful in a way Harrow could not begin to comprehend. Even after everything, she couldn't help but marvel at Her Divine Highness. As a case study, of course. Harrow took a deep breath and walked through the glass doors, her cavalier in tow. When the princess saw them she halted in her tracks. 

“Harrowhark! I’m so glad- I mean I thought you wouldn't- I mean-” Gideon took a sharp breath, then exhaled. “Lemme start again. Hello, Reverend Daughter. Thank you for joining me for dinner. And hello to you too, Ortus the Ninth.”

Ortus stood up straight upon being recognized. “Hello, Divine Highness. I was just leaving. May I take your coat, lady Harrowhark?”

Before she could tell him she’d rather die than strip, her cavalier ripped the damned cloak off of her, exposing her shoulders to the elements. He gave her an apologetic look and ran off. Harrow had a sneaking suspicion Aiglamene had orchestrated that one.

Her veil was sheer and Harrow was horrified to think her red-faced embarrassment showed through. Why hadn't she insisted on wearing paint anyway? Or at least stowed away a stick of grease paint so she could excuse herself and apply it later? Harrow kept her eyes downcast, away from the woman in front of her. She saw her boots walk into view and her heart stuttered.

“I’m- happy the dress fits. I mean it like… really fits well.” Gideon sounded nervous. She supposed that made sense. It was never pleasant having to deliver bad news. Harrow should know, she’d had to tell several families their spouse or parent had died over the years. It never got easier. 

She really should say something. Why wasn't she saying anything? “...Thank you. It's quite soft,” Harrow murmured, lifting her eyes from the ground.

Big mistake. Her Divine Highness was right there, standing only an arms length away. Harrow swallowed a lump of something and looked at her. She was the picture of health, warm brown skin glowing under candle light, amber eyes soft as she looked to Harrow. She wore a white suit again, this time with a bronze shirt underneath. It was obviously tailored, pulled back tight so every curve of her muscles was accentuated. Harrow found it deeply unfair that God had seen it fit to make her both tall and broad shouldered, but she supposed he would save the best for his one and only child.

They were standing in silence, she realized, while Harrow analyzed her. “Dinner then?” she asked, if only to break the silence. She was far too nervous to eat.

“Right. Dinner! Yeah!” Her Divine Highness held out her arm, bent in a sixty degree angle at the elbow. She stared at it quizzically. “You, uh, tuck your arm into mine. Like this,” Harrow jumped as the princess dragged her arm and nestled it in hers. There was hardly anything separating them and Harrow wished desperately that her dress had come with sleeves. At least someone had thought to include long gloves.

She allowed herself to be led to a table in the corner, lit by an absolutely insulting amount of candles. Was it typical of the First House to be so wasteful? Harrow resented the sight immediately. She let out a sigh of relief when they arrived at the table and Her Divine Highness broke their embrace to pull her chair out for her. 

“Thank you,” Harrow said while she sat down.

“No worries. I- uh- wasn't sure what you’d like. I asked your retainer but she didn't seem to know either.”

Harrow knew damn well Aiglamene knew what kind of foods she regularly ate. What this could possibly bring to the matchmaking table she did not know, but for the sake of the Ninth she’d endure it. “Anything is fine. I doubt food prepared for Her Divine Highness is lacking in quality or variety,” She tried not to sneer then, she really did, but she couldn't help it.

Gideon gave a little chuckle and pushed the chair in, her hands grazing the bare skin of Harrow’s back. They both jumped at the sensation. The princess laughed a bit, then sat down across from her. The atmosphere was awkward around them and Harrow knew she had to say something. “Please understand that-” She began, intent to demand the brunt of Her Divine Highness’ punishment land on herself and not the whole of the Ninth.

“Harrowhark-” Her Divine Highness started, right as Harrow had begun her argument. The two looked at each other with the knowledge both were embarking on uncharted territory. Harrow had never begged before, just as she was sure Her Divine Highness had never doled out a punishment in her life. 

Nervously, Harrow rubbed her exposed arms, though the air outside was not at all chilly. “You first, Divine Highness,” she said softly.

Gideon ran a hand through her hair, leaning back against her chair. “I- This is kinda- Look, I get that you want nothing to do with me. Honestly, I’ve known for a really long time. I should have gotten the picture when you never sent me any letters back.”

Harrow blinked at the princess. “What letters?”

Gideon looked up at her, golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. “It’s alright. I know you’re not one to try sparing others feelings. I just- I guess I thought I could convince you I was worth having around. And this- This whole thing is sort of my apology. The dress, the food, getting to sit down and talk to you like this. I just needed you to know I’m sorry for bothering you all these years. But especially here.”

Harrow stared at Her Divine Highness. She… was sorry? For using her, she supposed. Frankly, Harrow had not expected that. Her mind reeled with questions. But only one came to the surface. “I repeat, what letters are you talking about?” 

Now Gideon looked confused. “The… letters? The ones I sent you when I was a kid. I’m positive you got them, we royalty have real good post service.”

Harrow shook her head. “No, I never received any letters from you,” Was she trying to placate her then? Falsifying an attempt at communication so she could continue to be the righteous one? This seemed very unnecessary. 

Gideon sat up straight at that. “Are you serious? Harrow- Sorry, Harrowhark, I must have sent you over a hundred.”

This was becoming… odd. Why would she lie about this when she was about to send Harrow away? “I can assure you I received no such communication from the First House. Marshall Crux would have delivered the letters straight to me. He is in charge of the post on the Ninth, and a loyal servant to its masters.”

Gideon jumped up now, resuming her pacing around. Harrow watched her, eyes darting back and forth as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. “Okay. Okay! The picture is starting to clear up. You never got any letters from me?” She asked, turning around to look at Harrow.

Fed up, the Ninth House heir stood up. “No! How many times must I tell you? I never received anything from you. I thought I told you to stop playing stupid games with me! I know you wish for me to leave, why won’t you just send me away?!” Harrow choked out, annoying tears of frustration beginning to gather in the corner of her eyes.

That had Her Divine Highness stopping in her tracks. “Harrow, I don’t want to send you away. Why would you-”

“Because I am- Because-” Humiliatingly, the tears that gathered around her eyes began to spill over. Without thinking, Harrow rubbed at her eyes to wipe them away. 

Gideon narrowed her eyes and walked over to her. Gently, she pried Harrows hands away from her face and tilted her head up. “Hey… I’m gonna get under your veil, is that okay? Promise I won’t look at what's beneath.”

Harrow nodded, too miserable and confused to put up a front. She’d already thoroughly embarrassed herself. Why not add more to the pile? Carefully, Her Divine Highness took out a handkerchief from her back pocket and reached under her veil, wiping away excess tear tracks with practiced ease.

Harrow tucked a loose strand of her hair around her ear. “I suppose I should thank you.”

Gideon smiled, an act that made Harrow feel like a well of cracks had started fissuring across her heart. “Harrow,” She said, taking both her hands in her own. Harrow was once again thankful for the thin silk separating their flesh. She wouldn't be able to think straight if they touched skin to skin. “Harrow I’ve wanted to meet you since I was a kid. Did your parents ever tell you how I was found?”

Harrow swallowed and looked up at the princess, still in shock. “No… No, I don’t think so.”

Gideon led her back to their chairs, pulling hers next to Harrow’s so they could sit close. “It's sort of a long story. When I was born, my mom was on a shuttle bound for the Ninth House. She couldn't get clearance to land, so she loaded day-old me up into an organ transport bag and tried to make the jump down. From the same airspace as the prison orbiting your home.”

Harrow gasped. “She couldn't have survived that.”

Gideon shook her head. “She didn't. They found her dead as a doornail with me tucked inside that bag, safe as could be. Your parents, I mean.”

Harrow shook. She and her parents didn't exactly… talk. Especially lately. But Harrow was sure that such an incident wouldn’t be kept from her. Her Divine Highness being found on the Ninth? That would fuel the nuns gossip for years. “You’re… sure this information is reliable?”

Gideon nodded. “Gideon the First told me himself. He was the one who took me back here. But I’m getting ahead of myself. See, he was charged with pursuing my mom. Apparently she’d had some fight with my dad or something, hell if I know. Anyway he came down to greet your folks and they handed me off to him.”

Harrow felt unsteady. Her parents hadn't told her about something so important as this? Why would they do such a thing? “This would have been before I was born then?” She asked, slowly pulling the pieces together.

Gideon tightened her hands around Harrow’s. It didn't hurt. In fact it was a strange comfort. “Yeah. Ever since then, when I was old enough to get it I wanted to know more about the Ninth. I wrote you a letter every month since I was six years old. I used to practice spelling your name right before I went to sleep.”

Harrow did some quick arithmetic in her head. “That would be… What, one hundred and sixty-eight letters?” That was a lot of papyrus to be lost over almost a decade and a half. Why had she never received them?

Gideon let out a puff of laughter. “I like that that’s what you focused on. Not the name thing… Which I guess come to think of it is a little weird.”

Harrow closed her eyes tightly. She could feel the evil, sticky sensation of hope beginning to bubble in her chest. “So you… you spoke to me to learn more about your mother then?” That made sense. More sense then this hand holding, chest tightening agony she seemed to be experiencing alone.

“Oh no. Nope. Not letting you crawl into your bone shell. I see what you’re doing Harrow and I refuse to sit here and let you.”

Harrow opened her eyes and looked at Gideon, suddenly angry. “What? What am I doing? You are giving me facts and I am making reasonable deductions from them.”

Gideon pulled her closer, an act that had Harrow’s heart beating to near bursting against her ribcage. “No, you’re doomsdaying. Let me make my case here, okay?” She asked, nudging Harrow till they were practically sharing oxygen. 

Harrow bit the inside of her cheek again. “Fine. Go.”

Gideon grinned, leaning almost nose to nose with her. “What I am trying to say is that I spent fourteen god damned years of my life thinking about you. When I never got a response from you, which by the way we are circling back to once I can think again, I thought you just didn't want to talk to me. Maybe I gave you weird vibes or something, I dunno. But then Harrow you came here! I saw you throw a metric fuck ton of skeletons at me! You were so cool and glorious and just so fucking hot I couldn't believe you were real. You were like a miracle in motion.”

Harrow felt her blood rise to cheeks, wholly unused to this… Whatever this was. “Gideon-”

“Can I just say I’m really happy you’re saying my name again?” Gideon interrupted, eyes boring holes into Harrow’s through the fabric of her veil.

Harrow stood up quickly, feeling too exposed out in the night air. In that moment she wished more than anything that she’d given flesh magic more than a cursory glance. What she wouldn't give to stop the blood from flowing up to her cheeks. “I- I’m not… The Ninth House is not a good place for you. You- You are like the First. You’re warm and bright and the Ninth… We’re not like that.”

Gideon tilted her head to look up at her. “Hey. It's okay. I’m not telling you all of this so you’ll jump into my arms or anything. If you don’t want me, that's the end of this.”

Hearing Gideon say ‘the end of this’ sent Harrow’s heart into a titter. For once in her life, she spoke before she thought. “That is not what I mean!” She blurted out.

Gideon tilted her head, a smiling beginning to creep at the corner of her lips. “Yeah? What do you mean then?”

Harrow took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She pulled her hand away from Gideon to toy with the choker of phalanges she’d put on moments before she left for dinner. “I’ve never… had to deal with anything like this before,” she said, a bit lamely. 

“Because there aren't any other kids on your planet right? No one attempting to win your favor? Unless the old people you know are a lot bolder than the ones I know.”

Harrow froze. She couldn't continue like this. There she was, standing before God’s daughter, lying by omission about her own cursed existence. Listening to her extol virtues upon Harrow that she did not earn. 

“Gideon… Is there a saltwater pool somewhere on the premise we could access right now?” She asked.

Gideon pursed her lips and Harrow tried very hard not to look at her. “Why.”

Harrow held out her hand. “All I ask is that you trust me just this once… Please.”

Gideon Gaius-Prime took it without a moment's hesitation.

-

The hallways were blessedly empty as Gideon led Harrow to the pool room off the side of the gym. Ever since she was a kid, Gideon forced O.G. to race her whenever he visited. She never won once, even after their last race a week before everyone arrived. Harrow walked just a bit behind her, still shaking like a leaf. But she didn't let go of Gideon’s hand. Just to try something, she laced her fingers through Harrows, and was met with a reciprocal squeeze.

“Is this okay?” She whispered, the dull roar of running water nearly masking the sound of her voice. 

Harrow looked around, cautiously inspecting any nook and cranny for voyeurs. Gideon lets herself get dragged along, too dazzlingly happy to protest to her obvious paranoia. She did it. Harrow is talking to her again! Harrow is… bringing her to the pool. Which is maybe a little weird. Unless she also read that issue of ‘Swimming Sirens of the Sixth’ in which case she was very excited.

Satisfied, Harrow nods to herself, then broke off a bone from the incredibly fucking hot choker around her neck, throwing it on the ground to create a full skeleton. Gideon whistled in praise. “You can get that from a little finger bone? Nice.”

Harrow turned her head to look at her, expression still masked by the damned veil she was wearing. “You’ve seen me make more from less,” she said as she pulled another few finger bones off, creating constructs in a flash. She sent two of them to stand guard at the door, then the rest to surround the pool. Okay. That definitely did not happen in Gideon’s dirty magazines. Except maybe one particular edition of Naughty Nuns of the Ninth where a bone magician summoned a skeleton with a huge-

“Follow me,” Harrow said softly, interrupting that jaunt down memory lane. The Ninth heir let go of her hand, which disappointed Gideon greatly. Until she bent over, unzipping the tall boots that her genus caretaker had thought to include with her freshly sown dress. She had to give Teacher credit, he had excellent taste. The dress fit Harrow like a glove, sleek and sexy in a way Gideon had only dreamed of seeing since she met the bone magician. 

Harrow looked over her shoulder at the princess, who was currently memorizing the shape of the other girls thighs like her life depended on it. “You’ll want to take off your shoes,” She said plainly. 

Gideon hoped very hard Harrow didn't notice her attempt to glue her eyeballs to her backside. “Right, yeah. What exactly are we doing?” She asked, voice going a little high on the last note. Damnit. Be cool. 

“My mother has a tradition on the Ninth amongst our kin. We only discussed family secrets while in a private salt water pool. Even so far from home, it feels right to enforce this rule,” Harrow started, walking slowly into the pool. With her clothes still on. Huh. Well who was Gideon to buck tradition? Quickly, she tore off her shoes and dived in, jacket and all. Teacher was gonna be so pissed when he found that in her laundry.

Harrow broke the surface of the water, spluttering as she stood in the middle of the pool, hair sticking out awkwardly from under her veil. Gideon paddled over to her, unconcerned with the heavy drag of her clothes. She realized, with immense delight, that Harrow was having a hard time keeping her head above water. “Damn, you’re really short.”

The bone magician glared at her, taking a step backward so she could breathe properly. “I am aware,” Harrow growled out.

Gideon laughed, rolling up the sleeves of her blazer. “So. We’re here. What do you need me to do?”

Harrow took in a slow breath then reached her hands up to where the veil was cinched between two barrettes. Gideon sucked in a breath as Harrow pulled the layer back, tossing it over her shoulder. Underneath the gauzy layer of fabric was the face she’d grown accustomed to the past few days, but now without the layers of Ninth face paint. 

Her skin was a pale copper, clearly unseen by Dominicus in all eighteen of her years. It looked soft to the touch and Gideon had to bite her lip to keep from reaching up to stroke it. Her forehead was tall, her cheekbones high and her nose was pointed, as if it was designed to turn up at others from the day of her birth. Gideon wanted to kiss every bit of that face for the rest of her life.

“My retainer wouldn't allow me to wear greasepaint,” Harrow said bitterly, breaking her dazed staring.

“No, it's not that. I mean, I’m kinda happy about it you know? I’ve never seen your face before without all the-” Gideon motioned with her hand around her face. “Y’know? But it's… it's really good. Your face, I mean.”

Harrow wrinkled her nose, probably in disgust but Gideon was far too overjoyed to care. “I didn’t bring you here so you could- say those things,” she said, gnawing on her lip. Gideon watched the movement, utterly hypnotized. 

“Harrow, it’s gonna be really hard to focus if you keep doing that,” Gideon said, lifting her thumb up to the Ninth heir’s lips.

Harrow eyes, stark black with a mass of long eyelashes Gideon had originally attributed to more face paint magic, went wide as she let go of her lip. She lifted her hand to meet Gideon’s, wrapping her tiny fist around Gideon’s palm. “You will not want to touch me in a minute,” she muttered darkly. 

Gideon shrugged. “Try me.”

Harrow furrowed her brow, then sighed. “How much do you know about the strain of creche flu that killed most of the Ninth children?”

Gideon looked down at Harrow, eyes soft. “I’d heard about it from Gideon the First a while after it happened. When I was little, I begged my dad to let me live there constantly. I was worried about the Reverend Daughter being all alone with a bunch of old people. I really related to that, lemme tell you.”

Harrow looked down, untangling her hands from Gideon. “Their deaths… it was not because of a viral outbreak. It was because of me.”

Gideon tilted her head. “No it wasn't? You wouldn't have been born until like a year later.”

Harrow wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “No. I was born precisely nine months from that incident.”

“Okay? So your parents didn't have the best timing then. That isn't on you.”

Now Harrow looked frustrated. “No it-” She breathed in and out once again, seemingly trying her best to keep her patience intact. “Do you know how a necromancer is born?” She asked, straying a bit off topic.

Gideon nodded. “It's just pure chance, yeah?” Her father had agonized over her being born a ‘normal person’ for years. She had one very unhappy memory of her dad setting out a bundle of necromantic tests for her when she was about four, and failing each one over and over again until he was sure she had no capabilities whatsoever. 

Harrow played with the choker around her neck. “Typically yes. But there are other ways to assure such a thing.”

Gideon raised her eyebrows, urging her to continue.

“The Ninth… We’ve never been wealthy. Or particularly populous either. We live simply and usually that is enough. But after ten thousand long years of poverty and neglect, our House faces absolute ruin,” Harrow’s eyes watered a bit as she spoke of her home. Gideon yearned to reach out and comfort her, but did not want to interrupt her train of thought. “Eighteen years prior to my birth, my mother had lost three children to miscarriage. She is a necromancer, already unhealthy, born to a dying planet. And she needed to have a necromantically adept heir for our House to survive,”

Harrow took in a shaky breath. “So she, my father and my great aunts took matters into their own hands.”

Gideon watched the necro twist herself, trying desperately to make herself even smaller. Her skin was covered with goosebumps. Without thinking, Gideon reached out and put both hands on Harrow’s narrow shoulders. “Keep going. I’m with you.”

“There is a way to ensure a necromancer child, a talented one at that. A person just needs to be willing to make the sacrifice. Precisely nine months before my birth, my great aunts let loose a chemical gas that killed two hundred Ninth children, aged six weeks to eighteen years of age, in their beds at night. They all died within a minute.”

Gideon stared at Harrow. She looked like a girl. Cute and wet and absolutely miserable, standing with her alone in a pool. “So to have you they…?”

“Murdered an entire generation, yes.”

Gideon did the only thing she could in this utterly bananas scenario. She reached under Harrow’s chin, tilted her head up and told her the words she desperately wanted anyone to tell her for the last decade of her life. “Harrow, this is in no way your fault.”

Well, that was probably not the right answer. Harrow thrashed in her arms. “Not my fault? Of course it's my fault! Every single thing leading up to my conception was because of me! Because I needed to live! Without me, the Ninth would fall to ruin and yet even with my skills, my work, my planning, we still are without hope! I’ve wasted two hundred dead children's lives so that I might one day rise to be the greatest necromancer of my generation and I’ve squandered it! I cannot even accomplish the simple goal of protecting my home! Everything wrong has happened to us is because of me. Because of my useless life!”

Gideon didn't know what to say, what to do. How is one supposed to react to hearing that their crush is two hundred corpses? “Harrow-”

“And you- Gideon, you are Divine. You are literal divinity. Please, strike me down, put me out of my misery for the war crime that is my existence. Just please, please protect the Ninth,” She begged, tears falling freely now. 

Gideon let out a choking noise, somewhere between a laugh, a gasp, or a sob. “No way in hell am I doing anything to hurt you, so you can cross that off the list.”

Harrow thrashed again, closed fists pounding against Gideon’s chest. “Why not? I do not deserve reassurance or platitudes. Your image of the Ninth is wrong. We are broken beyond repair, capable of such cruelty. I couldn't stand to hear you talk the way you were.”

Gideon grabbed the fists pounding at her chest, remembering fondly the first time she’d come at her like that in the gardens. “Harrow. Look. Not that all of that isn't, you know, insanely fucked up, but this doesn't change anything. You’re still you, and yeah it would probably be better if all of that didn't happen to create you, but that doesn't change that it already happened. You’re here. And I don't want to change that.”

Harrow stopped moving entirely, just pressed her head against their joined hands. “I cannot ask for your forgiveness.”

Gideon rubbed her wrists in an attempt to be soothing. “It isn't about forgiveness. You haven't done anything besides play the cards you were dealt,” she said, borrowing an old saying from Augustine. Gideon hoped she sounded a lot nicer than he usually did when he used that turn of phrase.

Harrow choked on her sobs. “That is… wildly simplistic considering the circumstances.”

Gideon let out a little laugh. “I don’t really have a pre-planned ‘so you’re a result of mass murder huh, that’s neat’ first date response you know.”

Harrow made a tiny little whimper Gideon thought might be a laugh. “No one else knows about this besides my parents and my great aunts. No one.”

Gideon took one hand off her wrists, still grasping both of hers in one hand, then rubbed her back in soothing circles. “How long have you known?”

Harrow flinched at the touch at first, then gradually relaxed into it. “Since I was young. I cannot remember a time where I didn't know.”

“That must have been miserable.”

Harrow coughed wetly. “I’m sure it was worse for the children.”

“Yeah you’re probably right about that.”

They stood there together in the water for a few minutes, the air around them warm while Harrow’s chest wracked with quiet sobs. Gideon just held her through it, unsure of what else she could possibly give. Finally, after a long pause, Gideon spoke.

“What do you need from me? For the Ninth I mean.”

Harrow looked up at her, eyes puffy and red from too many tears shed. “What are you talking about?”

Gideon felt her smile tick up. “I mean, I’m a whole ass heir to an empire. I can get the Ninth any resources it wants or needs. Just give me like… eleven more days.”

“Gideon. I didn't tell you all of this so you’d take pity on the Ninth,” Harrow started, familiar panic creeping up in her voice.

“I know that. Because I know you. But I’ve got the resources to help and I want to.”

Harrow’s eyes grew wide. Droplets of water dripped down her neck distractingly, and Gideon had to stop her eyes from moving south. “You would offer salvation to a people willing to commit genocide?”

Gideon brought Harrow’s wrists up to her lips, kissing both before dropping them into the water. Harrow looked at her like she’d just stabbed her. “I’m giving desperate people a solution so they’re not forced to repeat their past mistakes. There's a difference. I am royalty. I know how this stuff works, even if I’m not exactly the best student.”

Harrow looked unsure, absolutely terrified. “I- There would be no way to repay such a service to my house. Not in a myriad.”

“It isn't about payment. If anything, this has been owed to the Ninth House for some time now. Dear old dad doesn't lend much to the Houses that don’t provide him with Cohort officers. So let me fix that,” Gideon stood up a little straighter and put on her fancy Divine Highness voice. “To you, the stalwart Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House, I offer you the resources to restore your people and your planet. Just say the word and it is yours.”

Harrow looked up at her, still unbelieving but, if Gideon’s eyes did not deceive her, perhaps the slightest bit trusting. “You truly mean it, don’t you?” She asked, awe coating her every word.

“Damn straight. I’ll send a work crew over right after this little trip. I’ll even come and enforce it myself if you’ll let me,” Gideon asked, just a little bit hopeful.

Harrow had a small smile beginning to grow at the corners of her lips. “It isn’t beautiful like here. We get no sunlight. You’d hate it.”

Gideon grinned. “I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

Harrow let out a weak little breath, her shoulders slumped over in exhaustion. “So you wish to come to the Ninth and solve all our problems? Bring birthing units and modern farming equipment? Then what, you’ll be on your way?” She asked.

Gideon took a quick breath. Okay. It's go time. “I was hoping actually that you’d let me stay.”

Harrow tilted her head, looking more than a little confused. “You’d like to stay on the Ninth?”

“Actually, I’d like to stay wherever you are. The Ninth, Canaan House, Cohort, hell I’d even hang around my dad more if you wanted to meet the Lyctors. I just wanna be with you.”

Harrow coughed wetly and Gideon bent down to look at her. “I’m not saying this out of pity, or out of some weirdo childhood crush okay? Harrow, I like you so much I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if you leave without me.”

Please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out, Gideon thought to herself as Harrow stood ramrod straight, looking at anything but her. “You don’t have to return my feelings or anything, I’m not expecting that. I just… thought you might wanna know. Honestly, you should probably milk this. If you told me to crawl around on the floor and prostrate myself to you I’d do it. You’ve got a lot of power here,” Gideon rambled on dumbly, desperate to fill the silence that suffocated the pool room.

Before she could process what was happening, Harrow looked back to her, pupils blown out and water rolling down her cheeks. Then, like the goddamn goblin she was, Harrow jumped up, latching herself onto Gideon and pulling them both underneath the warm salt water. 

For a hot second, Gideon thought to herself if this is how she was gonna go, drowned by a hot girl in a pool, it wouldn't be too bad. Then she felt Harrow press her lips into her neck, arms wrapping around her tight and figured death was the last thing on the docket tonight. Eventually, the two broke the surface, panting and leaning up against a corner wall they floated to. Harrow looked like a drowned rat and Gideon wasn't much better off. Still, in all of her days, Her Divine Highness Gideon Gaius-Prime had never felt so powerful.

“Soooooooo… Is that a yes then?” Gideon asked, tilting her head to look at the girl burrowed into her collarbone.

Harrow looked up at her, pointed chin against her sternum, hair dripping along her forehead. “I… I think so. I- I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t even have any reference materials to go by!” She said, her voice high and reedy. Wow she was very nervous, wasn't she?

Gideon laughed, pressing their foreheads together. “Hey, it's alright. We’ll take it step by step okay? I know there's all this stupid blah blah blah about me getting married but we don’t have to if you don’t want to. Let's just play it by ear for now. How’s that sound?”

Harrow nodded, the fog from her brain finally seemed to clear. “Okay. That sounds like the most practical option right now.”

Gideon wrapped her hands around her waist, knuckles grazing the back of Harrow’s dress slowly. “So. Don’t know if you noticed. But I did all that nice work of telling you all about my very embarrassing crush. Do you happen to have something to tell me?”

Harrow narrowed her eyes. “You have given me a heretofore unknown sense of agony I will likely never recover from. I expect you to take full responsibility.”

Gideon wiggled her eyebrows. “So… does that mean I can kiss you now?”

Harrow gripped the edge of Gideon’s salt-water soaked shirt. “... If you want.”

She pulled herself up onto the edge of the pool, dragging a spluttering Harrow with her. Quick as she could, Gideon pulled Harrow into her lap, eliciting a gasp from the other party. “Sorry- Sorry… Too much? I’m just uh- kinda shaking here. I’m just letting my body go on autopilot.” 

“No- It’s-” Harrow swallowed, fidgeting in her new spot on Gideon’s lap. “You’ll have to show me what to do.”

Gideon laughed. “What to do? What makes you think I have any idea what we’re doing here?”

Harrow looked down at her, the red tips of her ears poking out cutely from the cropped black hair. “You haven't-”

Gideon shook her head. “Nope. Not at all.”

Harrow nodded, as if she’d just found a solution to a problem she’d been grappling with. “Very well then. We’ll have to create a qualitative study then.”

Before Gideon could ask what the every loving fuck she meant by ‘qualitative study’ Harrow pressed her lips to Gideon. She felt as if every nerve in her body had just been shot with electricity and leaned into the warmth of her body, nestling her arms around Harrow’s waist. Without warning, Gideon felt a bite at her lower lip and involuntarily opened her mouth. 

Gideon could help but be a little pissed about this. I mean really? Harrow was hot, and talented, and could fucking kiss better than her? Dad certainly gave her the best traits… or I guess considering her birth maybe that wasn't exactly John Gaius’ doing. In any case, Gideon was positively melting under Harrow’s touch, falling back onto the wet concrete so Harrow could lean on her fully. She felt the nervous graze of the other girl’s tongue and tilted her head, allowing for a better angle.

Harrow shook above her, lacing one hand into her damp red hair and the other into her shirt. Belatedly, she realized those fingers were playing with the buttons on her shirt. Gideon broke away from the kiss, feeling more than a little breathless. “You’re positive you’ve never done that before, Nonagesimus?” She asked with a little laugh.

Harrow twisted her finger into the wet strands of hair that fell against her neck. “I assure you, I would have remembered.”

Gideon smiled bright, pulling the little necronun fully on top of her, freely running her palms down the seams of her dress. “Poor Harrow, automatically good at everything.”

Harrow glared at her half heartedly. “You interrupted my study.”

Gideon choked on another laugh. “Well excuse me for needing to breathe.”

Harrow leaned back a bit, examining Gideon as if she were a specimen under a microscope. The princess wriggled there, pinned completely by that stare that traveled from her eyes, to her lips, and down on to her neck. Slowly, she crept down, pressing her mouth against the golden brown skin. Gideon let out a strangled moan as she felt teeth biting onto the skin, and held tight, begging the necro not to stop.

“You taste like salt water,” Harrow said, lifting her head off the now freshly bruised skin. 

“No shit,” Gideon said, still reeling from the sensation. She sat up quickly, pulling Harrow along with a squeak. Now, feeling like she’d just won the upper hand, Gideon buried her head in the deep v of Harrow’s dress.

The gloved hands that had been grasping at air moved to card through Gideon’s scalp, while the woman in question nosed at the soft skin between Harrow’s breaths. Above her, she could hear the necro practically panting as she kissed every spot of available skin. “Gideon…” She sighed out, fingers tightening around her hair. It was weird and incredibly hot and Gideon never wanted the feeling to stop ever. 

Gideon kissed a path back up Harrow’s neck, leaving one last kiss to the pointed edge of her chin. Without even needing to ask, Harrow pulled her back in for another achingly long kiss, this time far more comfortable since Gideon knew what to do with the whole tongue thing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the many skeletons giving her an absolutely terrible stare. She couldn't care less. 

Harrow shivered above her, hands smashing their faces together like she was afraid someone was gonna come and rip Gideon away. The princess laughed into the kiss, rubbing apologetic circles into her back for good measure. 

Suddenly, Harrow pulled her head away and Gideon groaned in complaint. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttt.”

Harrow took both sides of Gideon’s head into her hands. “We need a plan.”

Gideon looked up at her dumbly. “I thought the plan was to make out until one of us died. And then if I died first you’d res my skeleton and we’d keep going.”

Harrow gave her a blank look of disgust, as if to say ‘really, I kiss you?’. “We need to have a formulated plan of attack for how we will conduct our behavior from here until the end of this excursion.”

Gideon blinked. “Uh… What?”

“How should we behave around the others?” Harrow said, breaking it down for Gideon’s poor, kiss-addled brain.

“Well… Everyone pretty much knows I’m bonkers for you. Like, Abigail’s been talking my ear off about when I’m gonna ask you to marry me. Which come to think of it, I guess I sorta did twice now?” 

Harrow, even despite the cool water dripping down her cheeks, still found a way to flush at that. “I refuse to embarrass myself publicly by acting like one of those Third twins.”

Gideon laughed and laid her head against Harrow’s chest. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. Gideon took that as a smug confirmation of her mad kissing skills. “You don’t have to. We can act just like we were. As long as I can sneak a couple quick gropes throughout the day, I’m good.”

Harrow glared at ‘gropes’. “So we will behave as we are, and work from there?”

Gideon grinned. “Yeah!”

“What about choosing a bride then?”

Gideon hissed. Right. She still needed to talk to Teacher about that. “I still don’t get the rush. Teacher thinks there's some galaxy wide conspiracy about ‘losing faith in the empire’ or something. Really it just sounds like Pops is paranoid and throwing me at the problem as a band-aid.”

Harrow opened her mouth to say more, but before they could speak there was a banging on the skeleton-locked steel doors. “Gideon Gaius-Prime, are you in there?” Teacher’s shrill voice rang out.

Harrow scrambled off of her, patting her head and looking around desperately for something. Gideon glanced at the water and saw the floating piece of fabric. Huh. Her veil must have slipped off. “You might need this.”

Harrow grabbed at the cloth, patting her head for the barrettes that once held it in place. “Damnit,”

Gideon turned Harrow around and, using an old knot trick O.G. had taught her, braided the fabric together so it would sit still on the necro’s head. “There. Shake your head a little, make sure its sturdy.”

Hesitantly, Harrow moved her head, looking back up at Gideon with surprise. “It worked,” She said, amazed.

Gideon grinned. “I’m a Divine Highness of many talents. May I walk you back to the terrace? Something tells me he’s real not happy with us ditching.”

Harrow nodded, throwing the sheet of cloth back over her head. Gideon missed that pointy little face already. “Hold on a second.”

Harrow stopped, glancing back up at her. With one quick tug, Gideon pulled the bone magician back to her, kissing her forehead through the gauzy veil. “There we go. Looking very fine and proper Reverend Daughter,” she teased.

“Do not start. We need a reasonable explanation for why we both look so out of sorts,” Harrow said nervously.

“Don’t worry about Teacher, he won’t get on your case about this. Tell him I just put you up to my shenanigans and he’ll ask no more questions.”

“Gideon, do you usually do things like this?”

The princess shrugged. “I’m no angel if that’s what you mean.”

Harrow sighed. “What have I agreed to?” she murmured, more to herself than Gideon.

Just for that, Her Divine Highness Gideon Gaius prime gave the Reverend Daughter one more heartbreakingly short kiss, over the thundering noise of Teacher attempting to break down the skele-locked gym doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harrow: I am going to tell you my most dreaded family secrets
> 
> Gideon: *is horny*
> 
> Universe Notes:
> 
> NSFW art (thank you again for letting me post it Ty!!!!!!! Please go check out her amazing work @thylluan on twitter): https://imgur.com/a/DZNYxzD
> 
> I should also note here, after this chapter the rating will be changing from 'T' to 'E', so anyone whose not onboard with smut feel free to tap out here. Everyone else... its time to enter the BONE ZONE!!! Thank you all for sticking with me, you're all my gorgeous angels and hopefully I did the intimate much needed griddlehark talks right! I promise far more kissing and Canaan House shenanigan's on the horizon!!!


	7. Nexus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harrow makes friends whether she wants to or not. Gideon gets a nap. Flowers are involved
> 
> This chapter, like all my chapters, was sponsored by Handholding

“So the dinner was enjoyable then?” Aiglamene asked innocently over breakfast the next morning. 

Harrow nearly choked on the water she’d been sipping. There was no way she knew… did she? “It was perfectly fine. Her Divine Highness and I discussed the future of the Ninth House and came to an agreement,” she said quickly, hoping to distract Aiglamene from whatever rumors she might have heard in the eight intervening hours since that dinner.

Harrow burned thinking of Gideon’s grinning face as she opened the door for her caretaker, completely and totally unashamed of herself. The two stood there wet and shivering while Teacher raved on about Her Divine Highness being irresponsible as usual. Though Harrow was inclined to agree with his assessment, when she recalled the events of the night she couldn't help but be a little… uplifted.

“Really? What does this agreement entail?” Aiglamene asked, sipping some warm, brown liquid that’s smell had Harrow wrinkling her nose.

“She offered her assistance to the Ninth. I took your advice and confided to her about our situation. You were right, she was quite sympathetic,” In all honesty, her retainer was the last thing on Harrow’s mind as she stood in that warm saline pool with Gideon. It was as if she was cracked open, all her precious secrets pouring out of her in a violent spill. And there was the princess herself, holding her through it all. Harrow felt a flush begin to burn at the tips of her ears and prayed Aiglamene hadn't noticed.

“I see… any catch to that I should know about?”

Harrow shook her head. “None. Just that we stay for the two weeks as planned.”

Aiglamene… Well she didn't exactly smile, but one corner of her lips did quirk slightly, which left much the same effect. “Well done, my lady.”

“What has lady Harrowhark done well?” Ortus asked as he exited the bathroom, fresh paint covering his bulbus features. 

“It seems the Ninth has been offered assistance by the First. It wouldn't have been possible if our lady had not spoken with Her Divine Highness last night.”

Ortus nodded. “Of course. Lady Harrowhark, I meant to ask. Was it chilly along the beach?”

Harrow raised an eyebrow. “I did not traverse the beach. Her Divine Highness and I dined on the terrace where you left us.”

Ortus frowned, lining his face paint dreadfully. “How did your clothes-”

Harrow quickly pushed out her chair. “That is quite enough. I plan on exploring Canaan House this morning, the two of you are free to do as you please,” she said, rushing towards the door. Harrow patently refused to be present when and if Aiglamene found out she’d been… dallying with Her Divine Highness. The shame would kill her. If her parents found out- She shook her head. There was no use considering that now.

Technically she had no plans to explore today, but the desire to be away from her retainers was stronger than her need to hide in her rooms. And besides, she felt in particularly high spirits today. Harrow bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile and flung open the doors. To her immense shock, Gideon stood in the doorway, her hand raised to knock. She looked bed ruffled, her red hair sticking at all ends and clothes hanging loose around her body. Harrow had to pull her eyes up before they fell to the gapingly open shirt hanging around her shoulders.

“Harrow!” Gideon greeted, smiling gently down at her. Harrow resented very much the way her heart gave an undignified ‘flop’ at the way she said her name.

“Hello Divine Highness. May I be of some assistance?” Harrow said slowly. Gideon looked confused at first, then saw Aiglamene and Ortus at the dining table behind them and understanding began to dawn on her face.

“Uh- Right! Hey, I was about to get breakfast with the Sixth and Seventh. I thought you might wanna join,” she said, her hand dragging through her hair. Harrow had observed it a few times before. It must be some kind of nervous tick. 

Harrow contemplated her options. Considering the events of last night it felt almost improper to see Gideon so quickly. But she so craved the attention, the uncomfortable warmth of those golden eyes on her. “I’ve already eaten.”

Gideon shuffled a bit where she stood. “If you want, you could just come to talk. I have very fun friends you know.”

She gave Harrow the most terribly pleading stare. Harrow bit the inside of her cheek. “I suppose a short meeting wouldn't hurt,” Gideon grinned brightly at her and a fresh heat bloomed in Harrow’s stomach. “Aiglamene, Ortus, I will be with Her Divine Highness and a few of the heirs. I’ll return some time in the afternoon,” Harrow called back to the two still occupying the parlor.

“Aye. Enjoy yourself, my lady,” Aiglamene shouted from the breakfast nook. Ortus nodded his head wildly in agreement. 

Harrow closed the door quickly and Gideon moved to embrace her. Harrow held up an arm, keeping them at a foot distance from each other. “Whaaaaaaaattttt?” Gideon whined.

“We are in public,” Harrow whispered harshly. “Do you not recall what we agreed upon last night? That we would behave as normal and dignified as possible?”

Gideon frowned at her. “I can either be my normal self or I can be dignified. I tragically cannot be both.”

Harrow felt her lips twist into an unwanted smile at that. “Just wait a moment.”

The two stood outside the door, Harrow pressing her ear carefully to the wooden frame. “What are you…?” The princess began to ask.

“Shh!”

Gideon held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay.”

Once Harrow was satisfied that Aiglamene and Ortus were not listening in, she turned back to Gideon. “There. We are alone. Now what did you-”

Before Harrow could even blink, Gideon took her face in her hands and kissed her, soft and sweet. She felt a flush growing all over and thanked herself for her earlier forethought when she applied an extra layer of sacramental paint. The princess released her lips with a cheeky grin, her hands still lingering around Harrow’s cheeks. “Missed you.”

“Missed me? You saw me not but a few hours ago,” Harrow spluttered, still reeling from the sudden burst of affection.

“Sorry Harrow, can’t tell what this grey matter up in my skull is gonna do. All I know is I woke up wondering why the hell I wasn't with you right that second,” Gideon said, as if that was completely normal early morning conversation. 

Harrow took both hands off her cheeks, examining the palms for any left over paint that may have accidentally transferred over. “You’re a disaster.”

“Yup. Still wanna come to breakfast with me?” She asked, holding out her arm for Harrow in much the same way she had the night prior.

She hesitated for a moment. “Do you promise to behave?”

Gideon looped an arm around Harrow’s waist, making her jump. “Me? Of course I’ll behave. I’m a good girl, dontcha know?”

Harrow sincerely doubted that. “Palamedes Sextus is extremely intuitive, and the Seventh heir seems to hold you in high favor. I need you to promise me you will not be groping, grabbing, kissing, making eyes at or any other such nonsense for the entirety of our time in their presence. Do you promise me?”

Gideon squeezed her around the middle, causing a shower of electric sparks to trace down her flesh. “Course. Though honestly, they’re gonna take one look at my face and figure it out.”

Harrow frowned. “It's because you’re awful with decorum.”

Gideon laughed at that. “I mean you’re not wrong, but Pal, Cam, and Dulcie just know me. You should see the mountain of letters I’ve written to them over the years. I’ve been speculating wildly about you since I was a kid.”

Harrow rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe I should not attend in that case.”

Gideon turned and pulled her into a hug, her whole form being swallowed by Gideon’s strong arms. “Hey, relax. They already knew you were my choice way before this little shindig was ever planned. Don’t worry about it.”

Harrow pouted, still unused to the feeling of being in someone else's arms. She couldn't remember ever being held like this, not even when she was young. It wasn't terrible she supposed. “That doesn't mean we shouldn't stay vigilant. We agreed for both our sakes the best thing was to be discreet about- whatever this is.”

Gideon pulled back from her, holding out her arm again. “Alright I promise. I’ll be extremely subtle. Trust me, they won't have figured out a thing.”

-

“Oh my god you two totally kissed didn't you?” Dulcie asked excitedly when Gideon and Harrow strolled into the dining room that morning. It was blessedly empty besides the Sixth and Seventh as promised. To Gideon’s great surprise even Pro was there, chowing down on a platter of eggs the skeletons had just brought him.

Harrow glared up at her, obviously suspicious Gideon had taken a cue from Palamedes’ book and spilled the beans to Dulcie immediately. She held up one hand (as the other was busy being tucked into Harrow’s) to defend herself. “I didn't say anything I swear.”

“You look deliriously happy. I was just making an educated guess,” Dulcie said smugly.

“There's also paint on your collar,” Camilla said idly.

Gideon and Harrow both looked at her nightshirt and her three traitorous friends laughed. Assholes, she thought fondly. “Cam I swear I’ll knock you flat for that.”

“Try it loser, you haven't beaten me yet.”

It had been something Gideon had done to occupy herself while she waited for Teacher to play matchmaker with her and Harrow. Can’t think about the girl you’ve been crazy about since you were a kid if a fist is flying at your face after all. “Hey! Ninth times the charm!” 

Harrow gave her a wry look. “Do not invoke the Ninth for your stupid sparing.”

Gideon winked at Harrow. “Maybe I don’t need the whole Ninth House, maybe the Revered Daughter should just come and be my good luck charm.”

She rolled her eyes and broke off from Gideon, sitting down daintily across from Palamedes. Dulcie made a big show of propping herself up and hobbling over to sit next to her. “Sooooo… Tell me more about Drearburr. Is it truly a haunting tower of obsidian that lurks over a misty cloud of atmosphere?”

Gideon sat down next to Harrow, pressing as close to her side as she could justify without one of her skeletons rising up and forcefully separating them. “That description sounds familiar… Wait, are you quoting NNotN?”

Harrow frowned and looked between the two women that shared the bench with her. “What could you possibly be talking about?”

Dulcie clapped her hands together. “An altogether excellent speculative novel of sensual literature using the backdrop of your House! A fine piece if I do say so myself.”

Palamedes looked at the group across from him gravely. “Harrowhark, for your own sake please don’t ask anymore. It’ll only encourage them.”

The Reverend Daughter nodded, apparently trusting the Warden of the Sixth to know what he was talking about. Dulcie stuck out her tongue at him. “Pal! How could you!”

“If I recall, we are trying to welcome Harrowhark, not make her realize what awful perverts the two of you are.”

“I’ve known that the second I met Her Divine Highness,” Harrow said immediately. Gideon whistled. Damn, she was so mean.

“At least you’ve got good judgement,” Camilla said, nodding to the Ninth House scion. That was practically a friendly clap on the back in Cam World.

“Psh, what do you know. Harrow, do you want me to get you anything? The skeletons have a whole host of foods they can make,” She asked, eyes lingering on the tiny section of skin that Harrow had missed that morning. It was right up by her earlobe and Gideon had a craving to kiss it. 

Harrow’s face twisted up at the mention of food. Gideon had noticed how she’d barely picked at any of her meals since she’d arrived at Canaan House. Maybe the flavors were too strong here compared to the Ninth. “Just a bowl of gruel.”

Dulcie tapped her side. “Harrow, please do me a favor and order something a touch more extravagant. I love to watch the rich pay for a fine meal, whether it gets eaten or not. No offense to your House, dear Gideon.”

Gideon laughed heartily. “No worries, I like wasting my dad's money too.”

Harrow bit her bottom lip. “I do not indulge in food as pleasure. I wouldn't know where to begin.” 

Gideon ran her fingers across the hand that Harrow had propped on the seat next to her. “How about we start with bread and go from there, okay?”

Harrow gave her a warning look and Gideon relented. “Fine,” she huffed.

Gideon grinned and jumped up to greet one of the shit-million skeletons her dad had stationed here since the beginning of fucking time. It gave her its usual dumb skull face as she rattled off a huge order for herself, and about thirty different kinds of butter, honey and marmalade for Harrow. “Got all that bud?” 

The skeleton gave a teeth rattling nod as it skittered off to the kitchens. Gideon happily jaunted back over to the table, where Dulcinea was interrogating Harrow. “Is your bone magic really so advanced? I’d love to see a demonstration if you wouldn't mind.”

Harrow lifted one eyebrow. “Are you conducting some kind of test then?””

Dulcinea giggled. “If you want to call it that. Really I just love watching other people work while I get to relax.”

Pal groaned. “Dulcie, when you say things like that it makes people less likely to do what you want.”

Dulcinea stuck her tongue out at the Sixth House necro. “Psh, do not doubt my sway. Harrowhark, what do you say, will you help this poor, dying woman see some truly fantastic bone magic?”

Gideon snorted and sat back down. “Do you usually invoke your illness to get others to do your bidding?” Harrow asked, stuck somewhere between bewildered and amazed.

Cam muffled a laugh into her sleeve. Dulcinea was practically beaming at Harrow. “Oh you caught that, did you? I knew you would!”

Gideon nudged Harrow with her elbow. “She used that on me for years. ‘Divine Highness, please send me more frequent letters. If I don’t get constant communication I will die.’ Die of boredom more like.”

“Well it was all Pro’s fault. Not that I don’t love Mia and the children to bits but one can only enjoy being trapped on a rose farm away from society for so long before they implode,” Dulcinea explained. Protesilaus laughed behind her, a strong belt that Gideon had never heard before.

“You had an attack two weeks prior. As your cavalier I was not about to let you die,” The man said humorously. Something Gideon loved about the Seventh, death was a real laughing matter to them. 

“She did the same to Cam and I. Don’t let her get to you,” Palamedes said just as their food was delivered. 

The skeletons arranged themselves around the table, placing delicious looking carbohydrates all along the wood. Harrow looked with comically wide eyes at the mountains of jars being settled along her plate. “I ordered bread.”

Gideon laughed and slung her arm around the bone magician. “I know. There's this old First House tradition of putting honey and jam on toast to make it sweeter. I asked them to bring some out for you to try if you felt like it.”

Harrow pursed her lips and Gideon felt particularly angry she couldn't kiss her right then. “I will attempt to eat one of these.”

“I recommend the marmalade. I’ve been having it every morning since I got here!” Dulcinea suggested, pointing to a tall, orange jar in the center of the table. Palamedes helpfully passed it along, making good use of those long arms.

As they all started digging in, the doors swung open and Abigail and Magnus walked through, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Gideon waved a hand at the couple. “Yo! Glad you could make it!”

Abigail smiled at the group and ambled over, her husband in tow. They sat on the other side of Gideon, the Fifth House heir pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Good morning everyone! Harrowhark, I’m so glad you decided to join us.”

Harrow leaned over to look at the spirit magician, her black robes and skull paint making a comical contrast to the cheery disposition of the room. “Good morning,” she murmured back respectfully. 

Magnus leaned over and gave a quick hug to Gideon before sitting across from his wife. “Are you able to eat without paint flicking everywhere? My goodness you’ve a more delicate touch than me.”

Harrow gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “It isn't difficult after you’ve practiced for nearly two decades.”

“Eating has always been difficult for Magnus. He’s been alive nearly four decades and still hasn't developed proper manners,” Abigail teased. Under the table Gideon felt a kick from husband to wife and smiled. 

“You’re just too formal dear. At home I practically receive gilded invitations for dinner.” Magnus explained to the group.

“I just appreciate the formality is all,” Abigail argued. 

“Abigail has the most incredible ability to be exceedly polite and demanding in equal measures,” Palamedes said to Harrow while he buttered some kind of roll that had Gideon’s mouth watering. Quickly, she followed suit. 

“Oh listen to you, making me seem like some kind of villain! Allow me to defend myself. The Sixth is in possession of some of the last written articles about the times before the Great Resurrection. I simply wanted to take a look,” Abigail elucidated. 

“As you said in about fifty letters.”

“It's vital to my work. Oh if only I could take a look at some artifacts, that would be the crown jewel right there...” She drifted off dreamily.

Gideon felt herself getting sleepy from all this archeology talk. She eyed Harrow’s shoulder and wondered if she could convince her to let her nestle in…

“The Ninth is in possession of several articles from before the Resurrection,” Harrow said conversationally, taking a tentative bite of the marmalade toast. Gideon watched very carefully as her eyes widened at the first taste of sugar. 

“Really? Oh Harrowhark I would adore getting to see them. Do you have a timeline yet for when the Ninth’s doors will be opening again?”

Harrow looked as if she regretted opening her mouth. Gideon quickly changed the subject. “Hey that reminds me, I’m hoping post this whole shindig, I'll be able to start traveling. Which House should I start at?”

Cam gave her a ‘I see exactly what you’re doing’ look. “I figured you’d be off at the Ninth House first chance you got.”

Damnit. “Ha, yeah but besides the Ninth. Think the Sixth would be willing to take me in for a bit?”

Abigail noticed her weak spot alright, and pounced on it like a great beast. “Besides the Ninth? Then you already have plans to visit? How long will you be staying.”

Gideon scrambled trying to come up with something to tell the adapt. But Harrow got there before her. “There have been some much needed installations the Ninth has required for a while now. Her Divine Highness offered to supervise the construction.”

Palamedes’ glasses slid down with the weight of his raised eyebrows. “I see… Will this allow you to welcome pilgrims again then?”

Harrow sat up a little straighter and Gideon felt a crashing wave of pride. “That is the point of all this, yes.”

Magnus leaned over the table. “Really? Well Abby, how about we spend our eleventh anniversary on the Ninth then? You can ignore me for some fossilized pieces of mystery stuff and I’ll hang around the mess hall.”

Abigail smiled wide at her husband. “Why that sounds grand. What say you Harrowhark, may we apply to be the first pilgrims?”

Harrow looked between the couple, more than a little nervous. Gideon reached out to grab her hand under the table. She jumped a little but soon relaxed into the touch. “I will see if I can arrange that with the Reverend Mother and Father.”

Dulcinea yawned, stretching her stick arms above her head. “All this talk of pilgrims and study is so droll. Can't we just visit Harrow because we like her?”

The hand that was gripping Gideon’s tightened a little bit and she smoothed a thumb over the soft skin. Half in reassurance, half so she would have something else to focus on rather than her escape plan. “The Ninth House is not exactly a place to vacation to,” Harrow started slowly.

“We’re not visiting for the skeletons or whatever, we’re visiting to see your lovely face,” Dulcinea cheerfully explained.

“I- I see.”

After that the table descended into madness, fighting over food and chatting about this and that. Gideon watched as Harrow picked at her plate, and once she was sure no one was watching, subtly offered bites off her own. Harrow looked startled at the prospect of food sharing, but tried a little of the pancakes anyways. Gideon felt her heart warm as Harrow tasted fresh fruit and sweet dough for the first time. “Do you like it?” she whispered, tucking her head lower so that only Harrow would hear her. 

“It isn't awful,” Harrow said with a little smile beginning at the corners of her mouth. 

“I’ve got some rice here too if you want it. It goes with this seaweed soup I don't really like, but O.G. is just addicted to.”

Harrow looked hesitant and Gideon slid the little bowl across to her. “Give it a shot if you want,” she said casually, pouring more red berry syrup on her delicious meal. Teacher never brought out the good stuff if it was just them and the priests. 

“Oh! Harrow that reminds me, you and Gideon must come stay on the Seventh with me for a while. We’re about to have a full bloom very soon, it’ll be nothing but pinks and reds for miles! Normally I am the first to complain about it, but I find being so far away from home makes me miss the sight of all those flowers, you know?” Dulcinea asked, head tilted questioningly.

Harrow nodded, hands playing with the roll of skeleton bracelets on her wrists. “I am not sure if that would be feasible right now.”

Dulcinea eyed Gideon over Harrow’s head, a sly smile on her face. “Well maybe not right now, but things change. You never know where you’ll be in even a few months' time.”

“Dulcie…” Palamedes said warningly. Gideon gave him a grateful look. 

“I know, I know. I’m restraining myself.”

“Are you?” Protesilaus asked from behind the book of poems he’s been reading while the rest of them talked.

Dulcinea gave her cav a shove and he playfully started to tip over. “Oh Pro you’re always spoiling my fun!”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a slow drawl. 

“You’ve gotta excuse them, Pro’s been playing babysitter to Dulcie since she was in diapers,” Gideon explained to Harrow.

“Poor man,” Harrow sniped.

Palamedes and Camilla laughed over their breakfasts. “Though no cav has suffered quite like Cam I’m afraid,” Palamedes argued.

Camilla rolled her eyes fondly at her necromancer. “At least my sacrifice is not in vain. You’re still breathing after all.”

Their breakfast continued languidly from there, Harrow slowly coming out of her shell as the morning wore on. Gideon watched with deeply selfish admiration as the Ninth House heir found herself knit into their little group. A great ache grew in her heart as she realized Harrow could have had this for years, had someone not intervened. As she leaned her elbows on the table, watching the woman next to her take little bites of food here and there, she contemplated the years stretching out before them. 

“Sorry to say goodbye, but Cam and I have a date with the library. There are an exquisite amount of tomes I need to sink my teeth into before the visit is over,” Palamedes explained, brushing his mouth off with a napkin.

“What a couple of nerds, who spends their free time going over dusty old books?” Gideon said, cajoling her friends.

Harrow glared at the princess. “I do, moron.”

Gideon grinned back at her, ideas wheezing through her head. “What if instead of doing the totally lame thing you follow my lead and we have some really fun,” she said, eyebrows wagging. 

It was at this moment every other occupant at the table decided to suspiciously vacate. As if on cue, they all stood up, making increasingly extra excuses as to why they had to go away right the fuck now. Harrow looked around at the bunch of medlers, startled. 

“Goodbye! Have fun!” Magnus shouted as the heavy wooden doors to the dining hall closed and the two girls were left blessedly alone. 

“Have they been doing that on purpose?!” Harrow asked, affronted and horrified in equal measures. 

“Yup. You didn't realize?”

Harrow looked up at her, expression twisted up into sour displeasure. “Of course not! I thought they were all just odd!”

Gideon laughed and scooted next to Harrow, relishing the closeness. She still smelled a little like the salt water of the pool and Gideon wanted to bury her head in her neck and never surface. “I mean they’re definitely weird.”

Harrow rubbed her temples and Gideon realized she’d probably picked up on that habit so she wouldn't smudge her all important skull-face. “Clearly.”

Gideon leaned down a bit, hoping to catch Harrow in a particularly affectionate mood. “They’re trying to help. But I didn't need their meddling. Turns out I’ve got mad game all on my own.”

Harrow scoffed at this, as if she hadn't had her tongue down Gideon’s throat just last night. “Doubtful.”

“I mean if you’re not sure, we can certainly make out some more. Let you test your findings and all that scientific junk.”

Harrow got up abruptly at that, eyes searching around for anyone else lurking in the room. Gideon grasped her hand. “Relax Nonagesimus, no ones around. And the skeletons don't like to gossip.”

Harrow looked uneasy but sat back down anyway. “You shouldn't be so glib about these things. We have a private arrangement.”

“Now that sounds sexy.”

Harrow shoved her with her shoulder. “You’re abhorrent.”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Harrow rolled her eyes yet again at the princess, moving to the door to exit the dining hall. Gideon kept to pace next to her. “Hey where do you think you’re going?” she asked playfully.

Harrow blinked at her. “To… study?”

Gideon put both hands on her hips and leaned down to look at the bone nun. “You came all this way to the First House, and you’re just gonna study?”

Harrow balked at her, as if not studying would quite literally be the end of her world. Well… Technically it kinda would, judging by what she told Gideon last night. “After my meal I devote my time to my studies. I’ve done this since I was a toddler.”

Gideon put her hands on Harrow’s shoulders. “Then you can spare a day off. How about you let me show you something fun?”

Harrow glared up at her under long, thick eyelashes. “Fun like the bone construct?”

“More like… relaxing fun. Lemme help you turn your brain off a little.”

Harrow looked unsure and Gideon waited, watching the gears of guilt turn in her head. Finally she nodded. “Fine. One afternoon.”

Gideon grinned, trailing both hands down her arms, lacing their fingers back together. “I can make that work.”

-

Gideon had taken her to some kind of glass house outside the main estate. Inside it was warmer than anything Harrow had ever felt, and full of rich flowers with deep green stems. Gideon held her hand, pointing out different plants and their attributes. 

“See, this one is lavender. I used to hate the stuff. My dad put it in biscuits and I thought it was nasty as hell, but it grew on me. Now I have a bundle next to my bed that I smell before I go to sleep.”

Harrow frowned. “Why would you smell a bunch of leaves?”

Gideon laughed and plucked a stem from the dirt, holding it up to Harrow’s face. “Go ahead and sniff it.”

Harrow gave a tentative whiff of the flowers, still a bit wary. It smelled sweet? Almost antediluvian in a way. She took the stem from Gideon’s hand and turned it over in her gloves, examining the purple petals with an intellectual curiosity.

“Do you like it?” Gideon asked after a moment of silence.

Harrow looked at the flowers once more and pressed her lips together. “Yes. Yes I think I do.”

Gideon let out a breathless laugh. “You looked so serious for a second I thought you were gonna throw it at me and leave.”

Harrow glanced back up at the princess. “I would not waste something so precious as plant life to insult you.”

Gideon smiled down at her, golden eyes soft. Harrow felt a growing warmth from inside her and desperately tried to quash it before her ears gave up the ghost. “Wanna know a secret?”

Harrow shook herself out of her reverie. “What?”

Gideon flung her hand at the humid room. “I grew most everything in here myself. It's a hobby Teacher made me pick up. He said I got too depressed with O.G. left, so he made me help him and the other priests out in the gardens. And then when I got into trouble he made me dig holes.” She shrugged. “It worked out, I’m pretty good at this stuff now.”

Harrow walked a bit ahead of the princess, examining the room. It was wall to wall covered in vibrant plant life, some of them literally climbing up the glass. Off in a corner, there was some kind of net that hung between two trees growing in heavy iron pots. “What grows here?” She asked, pointing to the object in question. 

Gideon laughed. “Actually, that’s where I take my naps. It's soooo warm in here, perfect for reading and sleepy times before dinner.”

Harrow looked at the large net, puzzled. “How could you possibly feel comfortable in that thing?”

Gideon smiled at her. “Allow me to demonstrate,” She said merrily, spreading the nest of fabric and plopping herself inside it, easy as could be. Casually, the princess chucked off her pajama shirt and crossed both arms behind her head, leaving her in just a bandeau and her trousers. “It's cozy! Trust me!”

Harrow looked away, pointedly kicking the button up back to its owner. “I’m sure it is. But why are you stripping in public?”

Gideon groaned, turning her body to face Harrow. “Cause it's hot in here? No one comes to the greenhouse, don't worry. Not even Teacher knows to look for me here.”

Harrow raised an eyebrow, still not looking at Gideon. “Have you considered this is not at all appropriate?”

Gideon reached out to her, dragging Harrow by the cloak into her arms. “Indulge me here. Last night we got all wet like you wanted, now I wanna take a nap. Give and take.”

Harrow scrunched up her nose. “That was for tradition's sake! And do not say it like that!”

Gideon grinned up at her, pressing her chin into her stomach. “Like what? Did I make it sound dirty or something?”

Harrow glared at the princess. “You know you did, heathen.”

Gideon shrugged. “So I’m a heathen. You kissed this heathen first, what does that say about you?”

Harrow hissed and covered Gideon’s mouth with both gloved hands. “Will you stop talking about that!”

She felt Gideon smile through her fingers. Slowly, she lifted both hands off the other girl’s mouth. “Are you going to behave?” Harrow asked seriously.

Gideon waggled her eyebrows. “Are you gonna get in here with me and take a nap?”

Harrow nearly recoiled at the suggestion. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am indeed. Come on, I bet you didn't sleep well. I know I didn’t, I was so excited from everything I was doing laps in my room just to get some shut eye.”

Harrow felt her neck flush. How did Gideon reveal things so easily? “You’re ridiculous,” she said, tenderness creeping into her voice.

Gideon wrapped her arms around Harrow’s waist. “Please?” She asked. 

Harrow fought back against a million preconceptions in her brain. It was improper for a unmarried couple to be alone for so long, not to mention sleeping next to each other. It was improper that they’d kissed already if she was being honest with herself. But Gideon looked so warm, and her eyes drifted unwillingly to the line of cleavage dappled with freckles… Before she could talk herself out of it, Harrow took off her boots and gripped both sides of the netting. “How do I-”

Rather than instruct her, Gideon swiftly lifted the necro up by her waist and set her down on top of her hips. “There you go! See? Hard parts over.”

Harrow muttered darkly about the indignity of being manhandled while Gideon nestled up behind her, the hammock groaning with their combined weight. “You’ll get paint all over yourself!” Harrow barked as Gideon began to nuzzle at her neck. 

“So what? Maybe I’ll parade that around the other heirs, huh? That’ll get the message across fast,” Gideon said with a laugh, burying her head in Harrow’s narrow shoulder.

Harrow turned her head to look at the princess, a glare etched into her features. “If you even think about leaving this room with a speck of paint on you I’ll rip your ribs out one by one.” 

Gideon whistled low. “Nice threat. Fine, I promise I won’t be completely obvious about adoring you. Now, what say we take off this robe and get comfy, hm?”

Harrow was affronted by the suggestion, but in a good enough mood to agree. Rolling her eyes, she divested herself of the layers of black vestments, leaving her in a chemise. It wasn't for Gideon’s sake, she told herself. The room was far too hot to be fully dressed. 

“Ooooo, you’ve been hiding something this ruffly under there?” Gideon asked, her head tilting to look at Harrow’s newly exposed undergarments. 

“Layers are necessary on the Ninth. Not just for tradition, but for preserving heat. You’d be smart to remember that for the coming weeks,” Harrow said, her back fully facing Gideon now. The less she let on about how affected she was by this whole mess, the better. 

Gideon did not seem to mind, pressing her chest tight against Harrow’s back and leaning them down. The netting creaked around them again and Harrow looked up, alarmed. “Relax, it hasn't failed me yet.”

Harrow looked back at the princess. “If this falls I hope I crush you to death.”

Gideon smiled, kissing Harrow’s temple, avoiding the more intricate parts of the face paint. “Wouldn't be a bad way to go. Now sssshhhh. If you listen close, you can hear the waves out there.”

Harrow laid back against the other girl’s chest, willing her heartbeat to go down. They laid there, intertwined in the drowsy heat of the afternoon. Eventually the only sounds Harrow could hear was the crashing of waves against the craggy cliffs of Canaan house, and the shallow breathing of one Gideon Gaius-Prime. 

In a moment of bravery, Harrow placed both hands over the ones sitting atop her stomach. Gideon did not react to the movement, to her great relief. Behind her, the princess had fallen asleep, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

As she slipped into unconsciousness, Harrow realized she’d never felt so at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> Harrow's chemise (picture it black!): https://imgur.com/a/wYIBjcB
> 
> I decided to give us a light little chapter of friends and cuddles before a few big reveals drop. A few of you have figured out some of the details and I'm so excited to see what you guys think! But for now I thought we could all use something light and warm :3
> 
> (Yes, Dulcie and Gideon have exchanged several copies of Naughty Nuns of the Ninth over the years. Its how Gideon gets her porn supply!)
> 
> This chapter was mostly written during a snow storm too lololol. Nothing sounded better to me then napping with a cute girl in warm greenhouse :D
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this trip to cuddle town! I've been loving reading these wonderful comments everyone has been leaving, there hasn't been a better group of readers in the whole world! If you had a good time, go head and leave me a lil something, it helps with the brain goo :D


	8. Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. This fic might be longer than nine chapters. I'm so sorry. the plot is fuckin going places
> 
> Sorry!!!!
> 
> I'm So Sorry
> 
> (Btw, this chapter is when the naughty bits begin :D)

Gideon woke up to a shadow crossing over her and Harrow’s huddled forms. It was… sunsetish, if she had to guess, with the rays of Dominicus hitting that nice fuck you spot in her eyeballs. Blearily, she looked up at the ever frowning face of her caretaker.

“Enjoying your nap?” Gideon (First Edition) asked her quietly, so not to disturb the still-sleeping Necro-Nun on her chest. 

Gideon glanced down at the girl laying prone against her. Harrow had managed to curl herself up into a ball right on top of her, her face pressed tightly to Gideon’s clavicle. She nearly wept with the sheer cuteness of it all. Before she could make too much of an ass out of herself, she glared up at her namesake, miming at him to stay quiet.

He sighed for a moment, then sat down on an overturned barrel that used to contain fertilizer. “I’m getting real sick of having to fetch you,” Gideon (Issue One) said. It was an old argument. Ever since Gideon could walk she would find a way to run off from her caregivers. And no matter what her swordmaster would find her, saying the same damn thing he always said. Old people were so stuck in their ways. 

“She needed a nap,” Gideon responded quietly, hands gently carding through Harrow’s raven hair. 

Her caretaker rolled his eyes, then looked pointedly at the pile of Ninth House robes next to her own shirt. “Did she need to do it half naked?”

Gideon shushed him as she felt Harrow begin to stir against her. “You try sleeping with a bunch of layers when it's this hot. What do you want anyway?”

O.G. stretched out and cracked his neck. “There's been a bit of a development.” 

Gideon raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue. 

Her mentor glanced back at her, just the teeniest bit of worry lurking in his eyes. “Your old man called. You might wanna prepare yourself.”

Gideon groaned. She’d received a hundred calls from her father in the past few years, all of them being of little consequence. Mostly just reminders not to get herself hurt, insistence that she could not take off on a shuttle to the Ninth or the Cohort or wherever and updates on the other Lyctors. “Let me guess. Cytherea is still languidly depressed, Mercymorn a terror, and Augustine a languidly depressive terror?”

Gideon (Day One)’s lips perked up in a little smirk. He wasn't much of a fan of his fellow Saints, something they enjoyed bonding over when the moment arose. “Not that I’m afraid. He apparently has something to tell you about this whole-” He waved his hand around. “Mess.”

Gideon frowned. “No way dear old dad was that clear. What’d he actually say,” She knew her father, and one thing John Gaius did better than anyone was skirt around an issue. To extrapolate information from the Kindly Prince was like pulling the teeth out of a dragon. Meaning; painful, futile and very time consuming. 

Her swordmaster simply sighed, stood up, and reached his hand out to her. Gideon vigorously shook her head and he sighed once more. “Just- finish up and head over to Teacher’s room. It’s almost dinner time anyways.”

Gideon watched as her mentor walked out of the greenhouse. Something about his stride was… strained. As if he’d been injured, though the thought of that was laughable considering his particular skill set. Harrow was still breathing slowly against her, apparently undisturbed by the conversation. Gideon pressed her lips to the other girl's temple.

There was a faint ‘mmmughh’ sound from Harrow and Gideon hid her grin in her throat. The necromancer jostled a bit against her, then pushed both skinny arms against the fat of Gideon’s stomach, making her wheeze. “Ouch, watch your wobbly little palms, they pack a punch!”

Harrow sat up, or the closest approximation to sitting up she could do all wrapped up in a net. Most of her paint had smeared across her face and Gideon nearly fell apart watching her blurry eyes slowly wake up. Just for that, she pulled Harrow in for what was meant to be a quick kiss, but quickly evolved into the kind of lips and tongue whirlwind that set her pulse racing. When they broke apart Harrow was panting slightly, far more awake now. “Good morning starshine, Dominicus says hello.”

Harrow glared at her. “Just- Shut up. What time is it?” She asked, looking around the greenhouse for some kind of indicator of time. She was panicked suddenly and it dawned on Gideon that she was used to Ninth House time. If she slept through a full sun cycle there, she’d have been dead or comatose.

“It's been a few hours at least. Nearly dinnertime,” Gideon said, trying her best to piece together proper thought. It wasn't her fault! Harrow’s slip situation was beginning to droop down her narrow shoulders, revealing all kinds of skin Gideon was very much interested in getting her lips on. 

Harrow’s mouth twisted up into a very displeased Classic Harrow expression. She sat back, arms crossed while she contemplated some kind of plan of attack. Gideon took this moment to become very acquainted with the necro’s collar bones, distracting her with an assault of kisses. “Gid- Gideon! I’m trying to concentrate!” She exclaimed hopelessly, already crumbling under the princess. 

“I’m not stopping you!” Gideon said, laughing against the thin copper skin. 

Harrow muttered something about abuse of royal authority while she sunk her fingers into the princess’ bright hair, and Gideon happily continued her trail down the Ninth House heir’s body. Every available inch of skin was kissed with a fervor, earning her a wet gasp from the girl above her.

Gideon glanced up at Harrow, whose face was flushed with apparent exertion. She tried (and failed) not to feel smug about that. “You alright Corpse Countess?” She asked, hands resting delicately on the tops of the other girl’s thighs. 

Harrow screwed her eyes shut and pointedly looked away from Gideon. “I am perfectly content!” She said, voice cracking a bit. 

Gideon whistled. “Yeah? You’re one cool customer then, cause I’m totally freaking out.”

Harrow dared to open one eye. “...Really?”

Gideon leaned back, taking Harrow with her. Pressed chest to chest like this, she considered the best way to go about this conversation. “Yeah- I mean, this is pretty fuckin new to me. And you too. I’m just sorta doing whatever feels good, you know? But, if you don’t want something, you can tell me. I’m not gonna like, send you to the execution grounds or whatever.”

Harrow relaxed at that. “Okay.”

Gideon smoothed both hands down her back, feeling the ancient cotton fibers under her fingertips. “We’re good?”

Harrow nodded, pressing her forehead against Gideon’s. “We’re very good.”

Gideon smiled, then pulled Harrow in for another kiss, this one soft and slow. She felt hands grab at her neck, then her shoulders, in a hysteric ‘fuck where do I put my limbs' move that Gideon very much related to. Taking pity on the poor necro, she guided her hands around her neck, locking them together. Harrow mumbled what she thought was a thank you against her lips and Gideon melted away.

Harrow took that moment to slide one leg between her thighs and Gideon nearly bit into her mouth in misplaced revenge. She had a sneaking suspicion the Ninth House scion was very pleased with that reaction, judging by the evil little noises she made. Harrow pressed them tightly together, her knee rubbing dangerously against the seam of Gideon’s pants. Without meaning to, the Precious Heir to the Lord Undying made an undignified yelp.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Harrow asked fretfully as she pulled her leg away. 

Gideon whined. “No! No it was good! In fact, please keep doing that, I nearly lost my damned mind.”

Harrow tilted her head. “And that's… a good thing?”

Gideon nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes it’s very good, fuck. It was just sort of a shock to the system. Like, bam! Here’s my naughty bits!”

Harrow gave a calculating look, then ground her knee back into the apex of Gideon’s thighs. She moaned helplessly as Harrow studied her reaction. “Interesting,” She murmured. 

Gideon suddenly realized she was in danger. She kinda wanted to laugh. “Uhhhhaaaahhhh?”

Harrow looked down at her, long eyelashes and messy skull paint indicative of some kind of fucked up doll. Gideon was weirdly into it. She rocked again and Gideon sucked in a breath. “You like this. You really like this,” Harrow said in amazement.

Gideon felt the blood rise up her face. After almost a decade of porn addiction, now here was the go time! Actual sex! With Harrow! And she had no idea what to do. Her mind was completely blank, a potent combination of arousal and embarrassment pulling her into brain dead mode. Harrow rocked above her, seemingly unbothered by her sudden shy streak. Through the horny haze, it looked like she kinda liked this side of Gideon. “Ah-AH! Fuck!” She bit out when Harrow brushed her clit.

The hammock rocked ominously as the necromancer leaned down, laying firmly against Gideon once again. “This is not an optimal environment for sexual activity,” Harrow said seriously. Something must really be busted in Gideon’s brain, because she even found that nerdy ass word salad sexy.

“Uh- Yeah you’re probably right,” she said breathlessly. “Maybe we should sneak up to my rooms?”

Harrow laughed a little, her (absolutely perfect) pointed nose brushing Gideon’s cheek. “Tonight? After dinner? I need to check on my retainers, and conifer with Sextus on his findings first, that should leave us with enough time.”

What a huge dork, Gideon thought adoringly. Responsibilities and homework over sloppy make outs. “I can do that. Think you can sneak away?”

Harrow nodded. “Neither Ortus nor Aiglamene are very attentive. Frankly, if I told them the truth of what we’d be doing they might cheer.”

Gideon did not know where the stereotype of all Ninth House denizens being stuck up nun-types came from. If these three were an example of how the Ninth were, she’d be in good company. “Have I mentioned how cool they are?”

Harrow rolled her eyes, but still her lips quirked up into a smile. Gideon planted one last kiss on the hollow of the bone magicians throat, then propped them both up. “Careful, when I get out there's gonna be weird weight shenanigans, you might get bounced,” she warned.

“I’m perfectly aware of the laws of physics, thank you,” Harrow sniped back snobbily. Just for that Gideon got out quickly, causing the netting to bounce and shift, nearly knocking Harrow on her face. She hissed angrily and Gideon cackled.

“Need some help?” 

“No! Let me just-” Harrow tangled herself up in the netting, huffing as she tried in vain to pull herself out. Gideon moved to help her, but she held up her hand, pulling off a ring and creating a bone construct that held the hammock open for her, allowing her to slide out gracelessly. Gideon helpfully clapped.

“Oh shut up!”

-

After that particularly embarrassing fiasco, Gideon and Harrow parted. Apparently, much to Harrow’s ultimate embarrassment, Gideon the First came by while she slept, asking Gideon to come with him to ‘take care of a couple things.’ She gave Harrow a kiss, tucked into a dark corner of Canaan House, then sauntered away happily in her crumpled pajamas as if that was absolutely normal well into the evening. 

Harrow would never get used to her in all her days. And if Gideon was to be believed, they had many days to come. She flushed at the thought, then straightened herself up and headed for the assigned Ninth House rooms.

None of the lights were on when she got inside. Peering her head around, Harrow found that neither Aiglamene nor Ortus were waiting for her. She sighed in relief. The whole walk over she dreaded having to explain to her retainer why she was in such a state of disarray. 

Quickly, Harrow ducked her head into the bathroom where her paints from this morning were still laid out. According to the digital clock she had about fifteen minutes before dinner was served in the dining hall. The past few days she’d just had Ortus fetch her meals but now… She shook off her bashfulness and took stock of herself. Her paint needed reapplication and her robes were wrinkled beyond repair. She had just enough time to fix her appearance then get to dinner, where she could discuss her plans with Sextus for exploring Canaan House top to bottom. 

If she was already set to be here for the next two weeks, she might as well make the most of it. And while it pained Harrow to think of it, Palamedes Sextus was a useful ally to have. Plus he had already earned Gideon’s trust, which she found did go quite a ways with her. Harrow felt a suddenly, nearly debilitating tightness in her chest at the thought of Her Divine Highness and flushed.

As she was reapplying her paints, the door to her rooms opened with a long creek. Peeking her head out, she saw Ortus and Aiglamene looking about the parlor. “Will you two be attending dinner at the hall?” She called out, hoping this would distract either of them from wondering why the Reverend Daughter needed a reapplication so early in the evening.

“That’s the idea, yes. Where have you been all afternoon?” Aiglamene asked casually, sitting herself down on the ratty velvet sofa. 

Harrow did not pause in her work. Doing so would be an admission of guilt. “Her Divine Highness was giving me a private tour of Canaan House after breakfast. I seem to have lost track of time.”

Ortus made a grunting sort of noise as he plopped next to Aiglamene. “That’s good isn't it?” He asked, more to Aiglamene than to herself.

Aiglamene made a ‘hn’ noise, which usually meant her approval. “Do your plans still stand then?”

Harrow finished her paints, then walked over to her wardrobe. It occurred to her that perhaps she may need to be conscious of what she wore tonight. She felt a flush beginning to bloom from her chest all the way to the tips of her ears. To distract herself she began rifling through her clothing selection. “Yes. Her Divine Highness seems to be a woman of her word. I’ll be meeting with her again after supper to finalize plans.”

Even without looking, Harrow knew Aiglamene had an eyebrow raised in her direction. Ortus at least had the kindness to play oblivious. “Spending quite a bit of time with her then, eh?”

Harrow pulled out a new set of robes, inspecting them for any egregious signs of decay. “You told me to get along with her.”

“I know. And you’re doing well, my lady.”

Not appreciating the innuendo Aiglamene was clearly hinting at, Harrow stripped off her sodden robes and pulled out a fresh dress. It was long and dark, very comfortingly Ninth, but formal enough for a dinner at Canaan House. Not that even the princess seemed to observe such things. Harrow pinched herself as punishment for her wandering mind, then slipped on the dress. Without a word Aiglamene came up behind her and laced up the back, both as an assistance and an apology for prying.

Harrow dusted off the front of her gown, then inspected herself. Her appearance was in order, various bones sewed neatly into the seams of the dress, necklaces, bracelets and earrings all even, hair tidy. With a sharp nod she, Aiglamene and Ortus all exited the room in an orderly fashion, walking down to the dining hall.

On their way, the rolling wheels of Dulcinea Septimus echoed down the hall as she approached them, cheerful as ever. “Hello Harrow! And hello to you Ortus and Aiglamene! How have you all been enjoying this evening?”

Harrow stopped short, waiting for the woman and her lumbering cavalier to catch up to the three of them. “Good evening Septimus.”

Dulcinea made a ‘booooo’ sound and twisted her pretty face into a frown. “None of that Harrow dear. We’re friends now, please call me Dulcie or I shall be forced to scream. Isn't that right Pro?”

The giant cavalier nodded. “Her yells are famous in Rhodes. The loudest, most ghastly thing you’ll ever hear.”

Dulcinea smiled bright at that. “See! So please, for your own sake, call me Dulcie.”

Harrow hesitated. “That’s unnecessary.”

The Duchess of Rhodes pouted, crossing her arms and stopping short in front of Harrow. “Say it or I run your toes over.”

Harrow bit her lip to keep a smile from growing. Despite her earlier reservations, there was something to like about this woman. “Very well. I will make an effort to refer to you as Dulcie in the future. Though why a grown woman would wish to be called something so childish I could not begin to understand.”

Dulcinea smiled up at her, bright as starlight. “It's cute. There's not really much more to it than that.”

Harrow rolled her eyes, but continued walking with her companions to the dining hall. Inside there was already a ruckus of noise, both from platters being dropped on the table and the animated conversation of the Second and Third. Harrow was relieved to see the Sixth already sitting at the ends of the table, talking quietly amongst themselves. When the group of them entered, Palamedes waved them over.

Harrow moved to sit next to Camilla, but she shook her head, motioning to the chair on the right of where Gideon sat for breakfast a few days prior. “Your seat has already been reserved,” She said with a half smirk.

Harrow flushed a bit, but nodded and sat down. The rest of the party spread themselves out along the table. She could already hear snippets of a conversation Protesilaus and Ortus were having about the Noniad, and Dulcie was whispering excitedly in Camilla’s ear. “How was your investigation of the library?” Harrow asked Palamedes, seated across from her. 

He groaned, leaning back in his seat. “It would have been more productive if anyone had thought to organize it in the last myriad. I swear, the absolute treasure trove of data that could be found in those texts if someone had thought to actually preserve them properly. I spent most of this afternoon cataloging what was still in decent enough condition to be read.”

Harrow frowned. “I thought most of the artifacts in Canaan House were protected and kept by the priesthood.”

Palamedes sighed and rucked his glasses up his long nose. “Ideally, yes. But it seems that only having three people and a handful of skeletons on staff has not helped with the necessary clerical duties. If I had just five scholars from the Sixth here, we could make some serious headway. Maybe even find something of real value.”

Harrow nodded. “Will you be trying again tomorrow then?”

Palamedes looked at her curiously. “Ninth… are you volunteering to help me sort some old tomes?”

Harrow huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “We have two weeks of nothing to look forward to. I’d like to dedicate at least some of that time to being productive. Now do you want my services or not?”

Palamedes leaned over the table, holding one hand out to Harrow. “Nonagesimus, I look forward to working with you.”

Harrow blinked, then slowly took the hand, shaking it. She was very glad she’d remembered her gloves. “Very well. After breakfast tomorrow morning?”

He nodded, patting her hand once before retreating. “Sounds ideal. Gideon is welcome to tag along if she likes.”

Harrow raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt she’d be of much help.”

Palamedes eyes shown with mischief through his thick glasses. “Oh I don’t know, there's something to be said for Her Divine Highness when she’s properly motivated.”

At the risk of being scandalized, Harrow opened her mouth to ask what he could possibly mean by that. Before she could, however Teacher cleared his throat. “Hello everyone! Sorry to disturb the happy converse of us all. I thought it my duty to inform you all that Her Divine Highness will not be joining us for dinner tonight. But she sends her regards and hopes you all enjoy your meal,” The little man said happily.

Harrow furrowed her brow. Had her errands really lasted so long? The room erupted in another round of chatter as the constructs came through with serving dishes full of hot food, piling them onto plates. She noticed the construct who served her meal consciously dished out smaller helpings, and left a bowl of clear broth at her side. Palamedes and Camilla observed this and gave each other a knowing look before returning to their own meals.

The dinner proceeded as usual, with typical conversations fluttering throughout the room. Harrow ate slowly, watching those around her. Abigail and Magnus sat further away, talking happily with the Fourth. She noticed someone gave Isaac a new piercing in his nose and suspected his cavalier was responsible. 

After the hour passed, dessert was served. Harrow wrinkled her nose at the too sweet combination of fruit and cream on her plate and offered her helping to Camilla, who shrugged and took a few bites. 

As the conversation began to lull, the large wooden doors of the dining hall creaked open, and Her Divine Highness herself walked through. Harrow felt her pulse begin to kick up foolishly and bit the inside of her cheek. At least she was properly dressed this time.

“Uh- Hi everyone. I’m just uhhhhhhm-” She motioned wildly to the room around her. “Food, you know?”

Gideon looked nervous, Harrow realized. Moreover something was clearly upsetting her. Her eyes slid to the end of the table where Harrow was sitting with the Sixth House. Gideon gave a little wave, then moved blindly to her side, bumping a few chairs along the way. The room hushed as Her Divine Highness sat down, her fists balled up on the table.

“Sorry to interrupt everyone. Keep on eating,” Gideon said with more than a little forced cheer. Harrow glanced at Palamedes, whose brow was furrowed with what she presumed was worry. One of the constructs came around, dishing out a platter of food for Her Divine Highness, who looked down at the plate blankly. Under the table Gideon’s knee knocked with Harrow’s, startling the princess out of her reverie. 

“Are you alright?” Harrow murmured.

Gideon looked at her, seemingly dazed. “I’m- I’ve gotta tell you something.”

-

Gideon practically skipped away from the hall where she left Harrow, little bits of blush poking out from between her ruined skull paint. The princess grinned to herself as she walked to Teacher’s tiny ass room. Normally she’d put up a fight if and when her father called. Once she nearly knocked out O.G.’s teeth when he tried to make her speak to him. But she was in a fantastic mood, high off dry humping and sloppy make outs, so she’d give her old man a chance. If only to tell him she’d made her choice.

She knocked three times on the door, then pushed her way through. Teacher’s office was sparse and red, with a cozy couch she used to take naps on when she was a kid. The com device was sitting in the center of the desk, waiting for Teacher to come in and plug in the right code. Gideon checked her watch, a little agitated that she had to wait.

Not a minute later, Teacher strolled through the door, a happy smile on his face. “Well I must say I’m surprised we didn't have to drag you out from your hiding place!” 

Gideon rolled her eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Once, when you were seven, I recall you attempted to jump in the ocean rather than greet your Kindly Father.”

Oh yeah, Gideon remembered that. He was bringing Mercymorn to perform an exam on her, so she spat in his face and ran for it. Good times. “Psh, I’m not seven anymore. I can talk to the old man.”

Teacher sat at the desk, plucking at the buttons on the com. “So you are! And I couldn't be more proud. It's going now, I’ll leave you two to your discussion. Be sure to be on your best behavior, hmm?”

Gideon waved the old man out of the room. “I know, I know!”

Teacher closed the door with a quiet ‘snikt’ sound, leaving Gideon to the low brrrrrrrrringggg of the com. It had been at least three years since she spoke to the old man, not since a particularly disastrous day when she was fifteen. She probably should feel more nervous about this. But instead, her mind kept drifting back to Harrow. Her messed up skull paint, her big, dark eyes, the way she felt so warm and soft against Gideon… The line finally connected, snapping Gideon out of her daze. 

“Teacher? Are you calling to inform me I’m being ignored once again?” Her fathers teasing voice asked, sounding tired as usual.

“Nah, not this time.”

There was a beat of silence, then a soft ‘oh’. “It’s good to hear your voice again, child. How has the reunion been going so far?”

Gideon felt annoyance begin to tick in her . Leave it to her dad to just ignore three years of radio silence when it was convenient for him. “It's made me a pretty hot commodity. But that’s not why you called.”

John sighed his ‘Gideon must you be so difficult’ sigh. “No it isn't. Teacher told me something in his usual weekly update, I wanted to check and see if it was true.”

“What?”

“Is it true the Ninth House heir decided to attend?”

Gideon stopped her seething for a second. “Yes? Harrow came with her cav and an attendant. Why?”

John was quiet for a moment, and something began to prickle in the back of Gideon’s skull. “Dad. What is it?” She asked again. 

“I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, is all,” His voice was distant. Sort of lost, in the same way he talked about long dead friends. 

“Wouldn't come to what?” She asked, now thoroughly paranoid.

“Gideon. I must ask that you abstain from interacting with Harrowhark Nonagesimus and her companions.” 

She felt the room rock around her. Rage seized her by the reins. “What? Why the ever loving fuck should I?”

John was quiet again. “The Ninth is a dangerous place for us Gideon. I’ve told you this again and again.”

“When I was five! What could it possibly have to do with us right now?”

“It is where that must not wake has been left. It is a direct danger to not just you or I but the whole system.”

Gideon scoffed. “Isn't the whole point of the Ninth that your big bad enemy is locked up in there? They’ve got a whole thing about the rock not being rolled away or whatever.”

John cleared his throat. A sure sign he was getting frustrated with her. Again. “There are… measures I put in place so that we could all stay safe. You must play your part here child.”

“So because you’re paranoid your stupid little boobie traps won’t work even though they’ve been just fine for ten thousand fucking years I’m expected to ignore Harrow’s existence?” She asked, both irate and mystified in equal measures.

“Not just Harrowhark’s, but her retainers as well.”

Gideon leaned back in her chair. “And what if I told you I’ve already chosen her?”

John choked. “Tell me you haven't.”

Gideon smirked, happy to have one over on her father for once. “I have, and everyone knows it too. I gave her my word we would offer aid to the Ninth for their services to the Emperor. Used my big Divine Highness voice to do it too.”

“Gideon that is not up to you to make those calls,” Her father lectured fruitlessly.

She let out a bark of laughter. “Oh that’s rich coming from you. You who haven't stepped foot in this grand empire for ten thousand years. You left them to rot in that little corner of the universe and you don’t even care.” 

Her father went silent, with only the crackling of the speakers to alleviate the black hole of noise that had developed in the room. “What aid did you offer?”

Gideon sucked in a breath. “I am going to fully restore their house. Help get them the resources they need, reopen the doors for pilgrims, all of it.”

“That’s… ambitious.”

“Yup.”

There was another pause, and Gideon could hear the tell-tale ‘poke poke poke’ sounds of her father plugging away at his tablet. “Done.”

Gideon blinked. “Wait what? What’s done?”

“I’ve assigned a unit to examine the Ninth House and note what they require. From there I’ll send what they need. Was anything else promised?”

Gideon felt like she just dipped her head in bizarro world. “Uhhhhhh. I’m gonna go oversee the construction.”

There were a few more taps. “That you cannot do.”

Gideon felt more confused than ever. “Wait wait wait. Just- Hold on. So you don’t want me interacting with the Ninth at all, but you are willing to give them aid? Why, what's the reason for all this?”

“Perhaps I haven't been clear. As part of my empire, I will give the Ninth all the aid it requires. As heir of the First House you are welcome to offer those things with my permission. But as such, you need to follow my rules. I have let you live as you please for almost two decades now, and I have forgiven very much. The one thing I require from you is that you do not go near the Ninth or its acolytes. As such, any promises of marriage you’ve made to the Reverend Daughter are heretofore annulled.”

Gideon stood up, nearly shaking the table with her wrath. “Like hell it is! You can’t just ignore everyone then give orders on high.”

“I’m afraid little one, that is what an Emperor does.”

Gideon felt her blood roiling in her ears. She barely heard the faint click of the com as her father cut her off for what felt like the nth time in her entire life. She banged her fist on the table, feeling frustration curl around her like an old friend.

There was a knock on the door. “Has the Kindly Prince concluded his summons?” Teacher asked, voice hopeful. 

Gideon let out a breath. “He sure did all right.”

The door opened and Teacher walked through, a frown gracing his normally cheerful face. “Child… Is something the matter?”

Gideon couldn't think. She felt weirdly deflated. Like a bruised up piece of fruit, abandoned and left to rot. She didn't know why she was so surprised. This always happened with John Gaius called. 

“I-” Gideon started, before closing her mouth. She didn't really know what to do. She’d only ever wanted one thing in this world, and here her father was, prized to rip it out of her grasp. Teacher patted her hand, as if he knew what might have gone down.

“We will find another way,” He said comfortingly.

Gideon wasn't sure what work around they could really do for the god damned Emperor Undying. She needed to think. She needed her longsword. She needed Harrow.

-

Later, when the rest of the necromancers and their cavaliers filed out of the dining room, Harrow pulled Palamedes aside. Gideon still felt dazed, like she was in some kind of uncanny valley dream world. She felt a tug at her sleeve and looked down. 

“Are you alright dear?” Dulcie asked worriedly.

Gideon nodded. Harrow marched over to the two of them, her face stern. “Sextus says the library is mostly empty. We can have a private discussion there.”

With a nod to the last few stragglers, Harrow pulled Gideon out into the hallway, marching them to the large red doors demarcating the library. Gideon loved to play in there when she was little. She’d read her comics under the big wooden tables, loving the dusty smell of old books. Gideon the First used to have to drag her sleepy ass out of there to the nursery almost every day. 

Once inside, Harrow looked around the room cautiously, checking the corners for anyone hiding out. It was weirdly quite cute to see her all overprotective. Gideon sat on one of the plush sofas and leaned her head back, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

A few minutes passed and Harrow sat next to her. “What happened?” She asked, brows furrowed together.

Gideon let out a long sigh. “Same thing that always happens. I get my hopes up and dear old dad lets them crash around me. No biggy.”

Harrow tilted her head and scooted closer to her so that they were sitting hip to hip. “Was this about the ‘competition’?” She asked wryly.

Gideon turned her head towards the necro. Even depressed as hell Gideon thought she was beautiful. Scary yes, especially with the fresh skull, but gorgeous nonetheless. This close Gideon could see the tips of her bangs had little dapples of white paint, and Harrow’s lips were visible. Which made sense, they were just eating. But Gideon would bet money she’d destroyed it with all her lip chewing first. “You’re so cute.” 

Harrow narrowed her eyes. “I wasn't fishing for a compliment. Why are you upset?”

Gideon chuckled a little at that, and brought her hand up to brush the paint flecked bangs aside. “My dad is being my dad. He has some stupid thing about me going to the Ninth, and I did my dumb little kid lashing out thing. That’s usual for us.”

The little divot between Harrow’s eyebrows grew and Gideon smoothed it out with her thumb. “Does he find the Ninth unsuitable?” She asked, worry beginning to cloud around her eyes. 

“No it’s… it’s more complicated than that. He’s not telling me something as usual. He just expects me to go along with his orders like a good little drone.” Gideon could feel the anger start to boil up again. 

“What exactly did he tell you then?”

Gideon took a breath and turned to look back up at the ceiling. “He wants me to go back on my word. Not marry you, not come with you to the Ninth, the whole lot of it.”

Harrow stilled next to her. “God… does not want us to marry?”

Gideon realized she probably should have worded that better. Harrow spent her life in worship of her father. For him to just outright say she didn't want her marrying his daughter probably felt like some cosmic betrayal. “Harrow…”

Her lip was trembling, Gideon realized. “I had no idea the Ninth had fallen so out of favor with the Emperor Undying that even my presence here was offensive. Had I known that I would have never accepted the invitation,” Harrow was being snide, but there was a melancholy to her voice Gideon could not mistake. Without missing a beat, she wrapped the bone magician up into her arms.

“Fuck him. I’m just as divine as he is, if I say you’re great, you’re great,” Gideon said, kissing her temple for good measure.

Harrow let out a wet sounding cough. “That’s asinine.”

“No really. He can say whatever he wants, but the truth of the matter is that I’m here and he isn't. So who gives a shit? You’re a scary as shit bone nun that’s beaten my heart into oblivion. And I’m gonna do whatever I can to stay right by your side.”

Harrow mumbled something into her shoulder. Gideon pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. “What was that?”

Harrow’s eyes looked a little watery, but the tears had yet to break. “I said, that while that was incredibly moronic… you may have a point.” 

Gideon grinned. “‘Course I do. I don’t give a shit if we have to run off to the Ninth, I’m attached to your hip from now until you get sick of me.”

Harrow smiled at that, not bothering to school her face into a mask of indifference for once. It was a bright, dazzling thing that set Gideon’s heart on fire. “Alright. I can agree to those terms.”

“Yeah?” Gideon asked, putting both hands on the sides of Harrow’s face. 

“Yes.” Without waiting another second, Harrow pulled Gideon down by the hair into a dreamy kiss. Gideon felt her heart break from the sheer tenderness of the Ninth adepts mouth on hers, her hands curling into the cuffs of her jacket. 

When they broke away, Gideon noticed a twinkle in her eye. “What are you thinking about?” She asked softly.

Harrow looked up at her. “I was thinking for this courtship to work, we’ll need a plan of attack.”

Gideon felt both of her eyebrows raise involuntarily. “Oh? What have you got in mind?”

Harrow got off her lap, much to Gideon’s protests. She was pacing back and forth in the room, long dress swishing behind her. “Your father objects to the Ninth, there must be a reason. Why invite us to this whole competition where theoretically I would be a contender if he would then change his mind? It makes no sense.”

“Maybe… he didn't remember the whole locked tomb thing?”

Harrow stopped short and looked at her. “You think the King Undying forgot about his most deadly enemy sleeping within our catacombs?”

Gideon shrugged her shoulders. “You’d be surprised how forgetful he is. I’d honestly be shocked if he remembered how old I am.”

Harrow furrowed her brow and kept pacing. “Perhaps… Perhaps this has something to do with the missing letters.”

Gideon perked up at that. “The letters? Like… whoever was keeping my letters from you also tried to hide the invite too?”

“Precisely. But that scenario makes no sense. Every member of the Ninth sent me off with a ringing endorsement. Even Mother and Father came out of their rooms to say goodbye. Everyone expected me to make something of this terrible event.” Harrow was biting the inside of her cheek again, Gideon could tell from two meters away. 

“So… going with this idea, my dad or maybe one of his Lyctors asked whoever it was to hide the letters from me. And he thought they would also hide this invite because it was sort of the same thing?”

“I know it sounds odd. Who would feel threatened by a child's scribbles?”

Gideon laughed a hollow laugh. “Dad would. Insecure bastard.”

Harrow looked down for a moment, probably unsure of what to say to Gideon’s little outburst. “Be that as it may, a member of my house would be equally responsible. Someone who felt a sense of duty to the Ninth, enough to hide communications from Her Divine Highness herself but also someone who knows of our desperation. That thoroughly dwindles the numbers.”

Gideon leaned forward on her knees. “What about Aiglamene?”

Harrow wrinkled her nose. “No… She would have told me at this point if she had. Knowing that this is a marriage arrangement, she would have likely handed me every single letter and told me to study them for seduction opportunities,” She rolled her eyes at that, but Gideon couldn't help letting her mind wander to what ‘seduction opportunities’ the bone magician could use… 

Gideon shook her head. No use in being horny now. “What if she burned them?”

Harrow looked at Gideon like she’d just murdered her mother in front of her. “Aiglamene would never waste something so valuable as parchment.” 

Gideon nodded, not quite understanding but willing to go with it. “Okay so whoever took the letters probably still has them, yeah?”

“Likely yes. Or they’ve repurposed them in some way.”

Gideon felt a few sparks begin to fly in her mind. “What about Ortus? He’s always scribbling away at that magnum opus of his.”

Harrow smirked. “He is far too afraid of me to try anything like that.”

Gideon whistled. “You’re hot when you’re scaring the piss out of someone.”

“Thank you.”

The two sat in silence for another minute while Harrow stewed over what little information they had. Finally, she spoke again. “It is possible…” She started slowly. “That Marshall Crux could have intercepted them.”

Gideon frowned. “Why would he?

Harrow sighed and sat down next to Gideon. “I’m not sure. Perhaps my parents ordered him to hold the letters and he just never questioned it. But that still doesn't explain the rest of this mess. We’re missing far too many pieces.”

Gideon scoffed. “Sounds like we need to pop over to the Ninth for a little investigating.”

Harrow stared at her in awe, then grasped her hands. “Gideon you’re exactly right.”

Gideon jumped a little. “Wait… I am?”

Harrow nodded excitedly. “Yes! If we can find out the source of this subterfuge, we may be able to discern the reason for your fathers objections.”

“Then we could get married!”

Harrow went a little red under her paint. “Yes… I suppose we could.”

Gideon jumped up excitedly. “Great! Awesome! Just one problem!”

“What?”

“I’ve literally never been able to escape from here. And I’ve tried. Eighty-six times to be exact.”

Harrow frowned, boring a hole into the coffee table in front of her. “There must be some way.”

“I think I may have a solution for that actually,” A twinkly little voice said from the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> The wonderful and talented apennyprice on twitter drew the most wonderful Harrow art that I had to include here!!!!! It's the dinner dress she's wearing: https://twitter.com/apennyprice/status/1357842737698131968?s=21
> 
> Yes Gideon gets an immediate stress headache when talking to John. Anyone with an egomaniac dad can relate D:
> 
> I'm very sorry to end us off on a weird cliffhanger, I crossed my typical chapter limit by a thousand words or so and knew I had to cut us off there~ Hopefully the next update will be real soon ya'll, I've already got the final chapters outlined and ready to go :O
> 
> A big wonderful thank you once again to TLT discord channel and my loves on twitter who have been making me squeal with all the excitement around my silly fic! Ya'll are my muses and I owe you everything.
> 
> (also yes... Gideon and Harrow move super fast in all my fics… This is me rebelling against Muir pulling me into slowburn hell with her books)


	9. Pink in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LESBIAN ESCAPE MISSION GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! 
> 
> I'm so sorry this is a day late my darlings. To make up for it, this is the longest chapter yet (at over 8k words!!!) with a healthy dose of smut at the end!!!!! Please enjoy!!!!

Gideon and Harrow both turned to the now-opened doorway. Peeking in through the gloom of the evening was Dulcinea. “You know eavesdropping is considered rude,” Harrow said, her voice terse. 

“Yes yes yes. Pro is always telling me I’m so awful about that,” Dulcinea said with a shrug, rolling her way inside. Harrow glanced behind her. Her usually attentive cavalier was nowhere in sight.

“Where's Pro anyway?” Gideon asked, seemingly reading her mind.

Dulcinea laughed, triggering a coughing fit. Both girls got up to help her but she held up her hands. “None of that thank you. I snuck away for a few moments. I hear you two are in need of a bit of assistance? Perhaps a way off the First?”

Harrow raised an eyebrow. “You could say that,” She said evasively. 

Dulcinea straightened up in her chair, dusting off the long green dress she wore. “Well… what if I told you the Seventh has a special transport that Pro has been monitoring furiously?”

Both girls blinked, looked at each other, blinked again, then looked back at the Duchess of Rhodes. “Pardon?” Harrow asked.

Dulcinea smiled. “Most of the transports were authorized by the Emperor, sent to pick up the heirs, then flew off the second they departed the shuttle. But due to my so-called ‘delicate’ condition, we were granted special permission to bring our own fully functional medical ship. And to keep it on the planet, as it contains all those terrible little needles and tubes that could save my life if an emergency were to occur,” she said the last part with a comic sigh, though Harrow couldn't tell what about that was supposed to be funny. 

Gideon sat on her haunches next to Dulcinea’s chair, a contemplative look on her face. “So… what you’re saying is we could probably hijack it pretty easily, right?”

Dulcinea nodded, a wicked smile growing on her face. “Theoretically, if I were to tell you Pro is quite a heavy sleeper, especially after a big meal like the one we had in there, and I was utterly powerless to stop you, yes. Yes, I imagine stealing the shuttle would be quite simple.”

Harrow frowned. “And if we were to get caught?”

Dulcinea laughed her twinkling little laugh. “Well… I for one would not be charging Her Divine Highness with grand theft. Nor would I create such a scandal between the Seventh and the Ninth. So we could keep this whole affair our little secret,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

It… it could work. For a while. If they could just avoid getting caught for a day… “There's no way Gideon wouldn't be noticed immediately. She’s too closely watched here.”

“And that’s where we come in!” Abigail said cheerily as she strolled in and sat on the couch, Magnus in tow. 

“What, is everyone invited to this miserable conspiracy?” Harrow asked, more than a little exhausted by the surprise turn out.

Behind her as if on cue, the Sixth walked through the door, Camilla the Sixth a half-step behind her necromancer as always. “Think of it as your fellow House heirs performing a show of goodwill.”

Harrow blinked furiously at the room full of… well she couldn't exactly call them strangers now. Vague acquaintances? Friends of Gideon's? Why they would all endanger themselves like this Harrow had no idea. She certainly could never see herself returning the favor. “You still have yet to explain exactly what you have to offer.”

Palamedes let out a bark of laughter, then adjusted his slipping glasses. “Between Lady Pent and myself, we are quite sure we can create an adequate distraction to allow you to escape off planet. It involves the laboratories downstairs.”

Gideon glanced up at Harrow, concern glowing in her golden eyes. She reached up a hand, grasping Harrow’s. “Alright. Hit us with it.”

Abigail stood up, pulling her husband up with her. “There is quite a substantial spiritual presence down in the basement, as I’m sure you are all aware. Between the Warden and myself we can- Oh what's the word…”

“Jostle it my dear. You’re intending on jostling it,” Magnus added helpfully.

Abigail snapped her fingers. “Yes! That’s it! We intend on jostling loose a few of the pesky spiritual presences that have been haunting this place. Not enough to hurt anyone, just enough to cause a bit of chaos.”

Palamedes walked to the large table in the center of the room, Camilla moving in tandem, pulling some kind of blueprint out of her pack and laying it out for her necromancer. “In Laboratory Two there is a strong enough presence that if thoroughly rattled by both myself and Lady Pent, it should force every cav, necro and other assorted guests downstairs to help contain it. That leaves at least a thirty minute window for you two to fly off unattended,” He said, pointing to the specified locations for the sake of those who hadn't made it downstairs yet.

Harrow involuntarily squeezed Gideon’s hand, apprehension leaking through her. “And what happens if the damages are too great? Will we be responsible for the deaths of who knows how many people? There are far too many uncontrollable variables in this plan.”

Abigail rolled up the sleeves of her dress, revealing an intricate design of sigils laced into her skin. “That is where you’re wrong, dear. There is not a ghost around that does not bow to my sway. I do not mean to be a braggart, but I am thoroughly convinced there is not a spiritual magician in this system that comes close to rivaling my power.”

Magnus looked on at his wife with eyes full of pride. Harrow quickly looked away, feeling as if she was intruding on an intimate moment between spouses. “Even so…”

“I have studied containment for most of my life. Even if on the exceptionally slim chance that Lady Pent cannot exorcise the spirit, I can detain it indefinitely. Not to mention the mass of necromantic talent that lies outside of these doors. We have everything under control,” Palamedes said, reassurance in his voice. 

Harrow chewed her lip. To put this much trust in people she did not know was not in her character to say the least. Without thinking, she looked to Gideon, who stood back up, elbow leaning against Dulcinea’s chair. “It's your call,” she told Harrow, hand still wrapped around her own.

This was so much. But in many ways it could be their only chance to decipher this conundrum. And Gideon trusted these people implicitly. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to at least try. “I can agree to this plan. With conditions.”

Abigail nodded. “What do you have in mind?”

“We need plausible deniability. Not one of you can breathe a word that we’re attempting this, nor can you reveal any part of this plan. Swear on your Houses.”

Abigail, Dulcinea, and Palamedes all looked at each other. “Without a doubt, none of us would betray you. But for the sake of speeding this along, I swear as Warden of the Sixth House I will not let any aspect of this plan escape my lips outside of this room.”

Dulcinea nodded in agreement. “My, I think this is my first time officially addressing myself as Duchess in months. This is so exciting!” she cleared her throat, the little clear tubes inside her nostrils shaking a bit. “As Duchess of Rhodes, I solemnly swear on the House of the Seventh, and my own life that this plan of escape remains a secret between those of us present right now. Not even my cavalier will suspect a thing.”

Magnus bumped his wife with his hip. “Your turn. Feel free to swear on my life as well. Makes it sound all official.”

Abigail bumped him right back, giggling a little at her husband's antics. “Yes, okay. I, Abigail Pent solemnly swear on the great House of the Fifth not to let a single word slip about our arrangement, on both mine and my cavalier's life.”

Harrow took a breath. It would be better to have a written contract, but they simply did not have the time. She would just have to trust the five of them, though she already felt her heckles rising at the thought. “This is an acceptable arrangement.”

Gideon, who up until that moment had been quietly listening, grinned brightly at her. Without warning she wrapped Harrow into her arms, lifting her off her feet. She yelped at the feeling as Her Divine Highness’ strong arms held her tight against herself. “Thank fuck I thought you’d say no.”

Harrow grumbled, not sure at all what to do with her hands. “It's not as if we have a lot of options.”

“Still, thanks for backing them up Gloom Mistress,” Gideon said with another dazzling smile, finally setting Harrow down back to her feet. 

Harrow brushed herself off, now thoroughly embarrassed. “Yes… well…”

Gideon wrapped one arm around her shoulders and looked at the crew standing before them, pride glowing on her face. “I owe you guys everything for this.”

Magnus waved a hand. “Psh, we’re happy to help. At least now we won’t have to endure page after page of ‘Magnus, what do you think Harrow is like?’ or ‘Magnus, is there anyway you can visit her?’ It was endless I tell you.”

Harrow felt her ears go red at the descriptions while the Fifth and Seventh laughed at Magnus’ tale. Even the Sixth quirked up their mouths. Gideon let out a miserable sounding “Magggggnnuussssss,” and Harrow was distinctly reminded of the Fourth House teenagers.

After the collective teasing completed Harrow took stock of their plan. They had an escape route, a distraction, and a pardon. What could they possibly be missing?

It was then Gideon spoke up. “So… there's just one problem.”

All heads turned to the princess as she scratched the back of her head. “I uh…. I don’t know how to drive a shuttle.”

Harrow groaned. “This entire plan is for not if we cannot get the vehicle off the ground!”

Gideon shrugged. “It's not like anyone would have taught me. They’ve spent the last nineteen years keeping me glued to this damned rock.”

Harrow scrunched up her brows. She should have considered this. “Is there anyone else who knows how to operate a shuttle?”

Magnus and Camilla both raised their hands. “I’d go with you but I’m afraid if either Camilla or I went missing there would be quite a few questions raised at our Houses.” Magnus explained apologetically.

Harrow bit this inside of her cheek. She should have known this was too good to be true…

“I can take them,” A deep voice called from the doorway. Harrow froze. 

“Oh fuck,” Gideon said, the grip around Harrow’s arms getting tighter.

The door slowly opened, revealing the large, lumbering form of Gideon the First, his stance straight and powerful. Harrow hissed, knowing now their plan was ruined. “We-” She started, intending to explain herself. But before she could finish, the Lyctor held up his hand.

“Save it. You need a ride to the Ninth? I’ll take you.”

Harrow and Gideon blinked in unison, looking first at the man in front of them, then at each other, then back to the man. Gideon had a look of trepidation on her face. “Why?” She spluttered in disbelief.

Gideon the First blinked slowly, looking his eponym up and down. “You want the ride or not?”

Harrow gripped Gideon’s sleeve, full of mistrust over the Lyctor who served God directly. “How do we know you won’t turn us over to Teacher?”

He shrugged. “You don’t.”

The others in the room stared at Gideon the First. It occurred to Harrow this might be the first time any of them had ever seen a Lyctor in person. Finally, it was Abigail who spoke. “Will you hurt, scare, or endanger them in any way?”

He shrugged again. “I’ll try not to. But there's no telling what will happen when we land on the Ninth.”

Harrow balked at this suggestion. “My people would never dare hurt me. Or Gideon for that matter.”

Gideon the First narrowed his green eyes at her, staring unblinking into her soul. Harrow refused to be intimidated, staring right back at him. She thought for just a second she saw the ghost of a smile cross his lips. “Didn't say your people would. The Ninth has other inhabitors.”

Harrow just barely resisted rolling her eyes at the all powerful Lyctor. “Can you yourself then promise not to hurt either of us, and bring us back unharmed once we find the answers we’ve been looking for?”

She heard Gideon’s breath go shallow behind her and glanced up at the princess. She looked intensely at her namesake, as if begging him to promise her salvation. The two Gideons stared at each other for a long moment. “Yes. I won’t cause either of you two harm. And I’ll take you right back to the First before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

Gideon breathed out a sigh of relief, her grip on Harrow’s shoulder loosening. “So when do we leave?”

Gideon the First checked his watch. “Right now.”

-

Gideon (Zero) was so freaking dramatic. It took at least an hour between getting a go-bag for the two of them (luckily Gideon always had one packed), sending the Fifth and the Sixth into the basement, and finding Dulcie’s medical shuttle. But once they boarded, Gideon was hit with a sudden burst of… Something. Like a fist to the chest. This was it. She was leaving the First.

Harrow moved past her, doing her normal ‘peak behind all the doors’ shtick while O.G. got comfortable at the controls. The Seventh’s shuttle was state of the art, filled to the gills with every kind of medical doodad in this system and beyond. Dulcie had assured them that she had everything she needed with her in case of an attack, but Gideon couldn't help feeling nervous for her friend.

“The trip will take a few hours. We’re going the long route to avoid Cohort patrols. Ninth, you rest up in the back, me and Gideon will handle the controls,” her sword master ordered. Harrow looked a bit affronted at that command, then sighed and moved to the large bedroom in the back. 

“I am only doing this so I’ll be at full strength when we land,” She argued, hands on her hips. Gideon wondered if she could sneak one last kiss in before Harrow’s second nap of the day…

“Sit,” Gideon (The Lesser) ordered, kicking the chair next to him at the control panel. Gideon sighed but did as she was told. 

“You’re so bossy,” she complained, studying the various dials and lights on the dashboard. Her caretaker flipped a few switches, getting them ready for take off.

She was left in silence for a few minutes, with only the little clicks of buttons keeping her company. She tried her damnedest to memorize what O.G. was doing so that she could emulate it later in a daring escape but the man moved too quick for her.

“Strap in,” He called back to Harrow on the intercom. Gideon took that as a sign she should probably do the same as she fastened herself in with the buckles on her chair. Her caretaker, she noticed, did not. Benefits of being a Lyctor, she guessed. No seat belt rules.

When they finally launched, Gideon felt her stomach drop. The shuttle was butter smooth, but still, leaving the atmosphere of the First House felt almost wrong somehow. As if years of escape attempts meant nothing now that she was actually escaping for realsies. Even if only for a few hours.

“You okay?” Gideon (First Dosage) asked gruffly. 

Gideon mirrored her mentor, shrugging her shoulders as she slid down in her seat, watching the shuttles window as they passed through the ozone. “It's just a lot all at once.”

Her sword master grunted in agreement and the two fell into another patch of silence. It startled Gideon how easy this was all of a sudden. What was once a childhood fantasy was happening in a matter of moments. She felt like she should at least give it like... A speech or something. Unfortunately her audience was one annoyed old man and her crush napping just a few meters away.

She turned around and looked at the closed bedroom door where Harrow was supposedly sleeping, though Gideon had a sneaking suspicion she was probably fuming to herself on the mattress. She wondered if O.G. would hate her too much if she went back there.

“Have you ever heard about Pyrrha?” He asked suddenly. Gideon stared at her mentor. She’d heard the name before, mostly in passing by the other Lyctors. Cytherea had a whole anecdote about her being ‘the hottest cav ever to grace the Nine Houses’. 

“Not from you,” She said quietly.

Gideon the First’s eyes remained focused on the panel, but there was a new softness to them Gideon had never seen before. “She was the toughest woman I ever knew. We served together in what would one day become the Cohort some ten thousand years ago. You remind me of her sometimes.”

Gideon sat up straighter. “Because I’m so good with a sword?”

The corner of his lips lifted up. “Because you’ve got the filthiest mind I’ve ever known. Except for Pyrrah’s.”

Gideon laughed at that, leaning on her side to look at her mentor. “What was she like? Besides the filth, I mean.”

“Funny. Could pull a smile out of anyone. Even me. She used to hang around for hours, just to see if she could get me to laugh. It usually worked.”

Gideon pouted. “How come you don’t laugh at my jokes?”

“Say something funny and I might.”

Gideon kicked him for that, and he bit back another smile. There was an openness about him tonight that Gideon wasn't sure she’d ever seen before. Maybe it was the chaos of this whole stupid situation that made him remember sharing was caring. “Do you miss her?”

Gideon the Elder looked forward, his eyes looking at the star littered horizon flying passed them. Gideon wondered if she should be staring reverently at all this space. “Hard to miss someone who's always with you.”

Gideon knew her mentor better than that. That bone deep pain he always seemed to carry with him no matter what spoke for itself. “But you do, don’t you?”

He turned back to her, a little surprised. There was a long moment of silence while she and her sword master sized each other up. “... Perceptive.”

Gideon grinned. “I got it from you.”

He scoffed then leaned back in his chair, apparently done with button pressing for now. “She was only two years older than me, but she delighted in calling me ‘kid’. It drove me crazy.”

Gideon laughed. “Is that why you call me kid sometimes?”

There was a beat of silence and Gideon leaned over to look at her namesake. He looked a little weirded out, like he hadn't noticed he’d been nicknaming her for twenty god damned years. “Uhhh, you okay there?” She asked. His whole face froze up, like he was in a trance or something.

Gideon the First shook his head. “Just dandy kid. Go back and check on your little girlfriend.”

Gideon schooled her face into looking mock-affronted. “Girlfriend? Saint of Duty, I’ll have you know Harrow is gonna be my wife if all goes well.”

He rolled his eyes then reached his hand out to mess up her hair. Gideon accepted the noogie with grace. “Then I’ll learn to get used to her being my boss. Now get out of here, I’ve got stuff to do that requires silence.”

“You don’t think I can be quiet?” Gideon asked teasingly.

He raised one eyebrow and gave her a look of disbelief. Gideon held up both hands and relented. “Fine fine, I’m going. Come get us when we touch down.”

Her mentor simply waved a hand as she stumbled her way to the back. He was different somehow, and Gideon wasn't sure what could have triggered the change. Maybe all that talk about Pyrrha made him nostalgic.

Gideon hummed as she walked through the auto doors of the ship. She hadn't had the chance to check out the whole place when they boarded so she took the opportunity now. Dulcie, or Pro but probably Dulcie, had the place decked out to the nines in swishy green fabrics. Her friend probably spent a good chunk of her time here, it made sense that she dedicated the time to making it homey. There was an entire little apartment crammed in here.

Gideon waltzed around the parlor room, eyeing the door that led to what she was pretty sure was the bedroom. Before she could psyche herself up to go inside the auto doors slid open and Harrow’s scrunched face popped out.

“What are you doing? I thought you were assisting Gideon the First,” Harrow asked, crossing her arms.

Gideon looked at the Ninth House nunlet. Half her face paint was smooshed to one side, like she’d just spent the last half hour attempting to squish herself into a pillow. She’d changed out of the flowy black ball gown she had been wearing into a nightdress. It was at least a size too big for her, drooping off her shoulder in a way Gideon found most pleasing. “He uh, he didn't really need me. We talked some then he sent me on my way.”

Harrow scoffed. “Has he given any explanation as to why he’s suddenly interested in helping us?”

Gideon was more than a little distracted with the way Harrow’s breathing seemed to make the nighty she wore slip further and further down her shoulder. Gideon wondered how long she could keep staring until she got mad. “No… Not really. I know him though, I can vouch for him.”

Harrow didn't look convinced. She began pacing back and forth in the little parlor, the long fabric of her nightgown coming dangerously close to tipping some expensive ass looking equipment over. “The Saint of Duty is more than a little hard to read. What are his true intentions? Why does he want to help now? It's all a mystery.”

Gideon shrugged, then crossed the room, putting both hands on Harrow’s shoulders. She was surprised once again just how hot Harrow ran. She coveted that kind of warmth. “There's not a lot we can do right now. I mean if he wanted to, GTF could crash this shuttle and send us spiraling to our deaths. We’ve just kinda gotta trust that he won't.”

Harrow’s eyes went wide, as if she was just considering that she was indeed in a shuttle careening towards her home planet with a mystery man who could very easily murder the both of them. “I… I don’t like this stupid thing.”

Gideon tilted her head in silent questioning. Harrow groaned, then motioned to the room around them. “This! This ship! I… I can’t use my necromancy here. It's like if you were abandoned in some wasteland naked without a weapon.”

Gideon could feel a smile beginning to grow on her face. “Wait, are you picturing me naked?”

Harrow rolled her eyes, shoving Gideon. The puny push didn't even manage to rock her. “Not the point. Being here makes me nervous, made worse by the fact we know nothing of the pilot’s motives.”

Gideon considered this. Well. Sorta. She was still stuck on Harrow saying naked. But she was thinking about her words, honest! “I dunno if it makes a difference but I really do trust him you know. He’s been more of a dad to me than my actual dad ever was.”

Harrow paused, as if considering her words. “Surprisingly, I find that it does. To a point. I’ve already formulated a plan to detain him on the Ninth if necessary.”

That was a compromise she could get behind. Gideon pulled Harrow into a hug, wrapping herself fully around the bone magician. “I’ll help. But he’s pretty tough, you know.”

Harrow scoffed into her chest, a feeling that made Gideon warm all over. “But I’m clever. The Saint of Duty knows not who his opponent is.”

Gideon couldn't help but think something about Harrow’s blatant arrogance against a literal killing machine was so, so, so very hot. She tugged the bone magician closer, burrowing her face in her neck. “I wouldn't bet against you.”

Harrow’s breath caught as Gideon nestled into the column of her throat. She was beginning to worry the smell of Ninth House sacrament paint was becoming an automatic turn on. Harrow gripped her back, tiny fists balling up into Gideon’s now wrinkled-to-hell button up. Testing the waters, Gideon left a kiss right under Harrow’s jaw. The necromancer gave an undignified yelp in response. “Did I scare you there Nonagesimus?”

Harrow huffed. “You could not shock me if you tried.”

Gideon took this to mean she was being challenged. And really Harrow ought to have known better. She kissed the network of veins that lived in Harrow’s skin, following them down to her chest. Harrow’s breath hitched and Gideon looked up. Through the messy paint, she could see a distinct flush beginning to creep through. “Don’t stop idiot!” Harrow barked, moving her hands from her back into Gideon’s bright red hair.

The little tugs on her scalp made Gideon’s nerves alight. She couldn't hold back a whimper as Harrow directed her back to the hanging neckline of her nightgown. Her mind raced with memories of various skin mags, hoping some magic sex wisdom would hit her real quick. Thinking quickly, Gideon nudged the still hanging on fabric with her nose, exposing another few inches of flesh. 

Before she could do anything else, Harrow pushed Gideon back. Fearing she’d done something wrong she opened her mouth to apologize, only to be shoved to the auto doors leaving to the bedroom. “We’re not… doing things standing up. Move it, there's a perfectly serviceable bed inside.”

She didn't have to tell Gideon twice. If she could have torn the doors open she would have. Luckily, the sensor activated before she had to do anything too drastic. Inside was a simple bedroom, clearly decorated to Dulcie’s tastes. Lots of the same tasteful greens and patterns Gideon had come to associate with the Seventh. The bed in the center was already mussed from Harrow’s earlier attempt at a nap and Gideon took a dry gulp when she realized this was it. It was go-time.

“Are you just going to stand there all night Gideon? If that’s the case, move aside and let me rest,” Harrow said snobbishly, squeezing past her to sit on the bed, looking like a god damned empress in a polyester nightgown. Gideon realized belatedly if they were gonna…like actually do it, she would very much like to see Harrow’s face.

“Harrow? Could you do me a favor?” Gideon asked, her mouth as dry as a Cohort tactical meeting.

Harrow tilted her head in that stupidly cute bird way that had Gideon practically melting where she stood. “Please don’t say something horrid and make me kick you out.”

Gideon let out a nervous laugh. “No it's not… Could you take off the rest of the face paint?” She asked, using a hand motioning wildly over her own face.

Harrow looked a little hesitant. “Gideon…”

“You don’t have to!” Gideon started suddenly. “It's just… it's your face and I like it a whole bunch. I’d like to see it.”

Harrow contemplated this for a second, then propped herself up and moved silently to the washroom ensuite. Gideon bounced on her heels nervously, praying to anything out there that wasn't her dad that she hadn't just screwed up her one chance at actual boning. 

After a couple minutes the doors slid open and out popped Harrow, bare faced and beautifully witchy. “Are you satisfied?” Asked the bone magician, hands on her hips. Gideon noticed she’d also removed a few bits of jewelry, conscious that they might stab her while they were doin’ it. It was both practical and incredibly hot.

Gideon nodded. “Harrow if I don’t kiss you right the fuck now I think my brain is gonna explode into tiny bits all over this room.”

Harrow flushed in the low light of the bedroom. “Then why aren't you?”

Gideon lunged before she thought, grasping the necro around the waist and pulling her into an achingly perfect kiss. She was not a very practiced kisser, neither was Harrow, but they both made up for lack of skill with an overwhelming amount of enthusiasm. Gideon felt Harrow claw at the buttons on her front and made an encouraging sound against the bone magician’s lips.

Harrow fiddled restlessly with the fastenings on her collar, grinning against Gideon when she managed to get one loose. Gideon took this opportunity to slide her tongue in Harrow’s mouth, earning a delightful moan in the process. She felt Harrow’s small hands slip into the front of her shirt and froze, turned on as hell but panicking maybe just a little.

“Are you okay?” Harrow asked, breaking the kiss. She was very nearly breathless, her chest rising and falling with great strain as she examined Gideon for any signs of discomfort.

“I’m good, I just totally didn't expect it to be grope city over here,” Gideon said, flushed and smiling so hard it hurt.

Harrow rolled her eyes, then wrapped both arms around her neck. Gideon accepted the embrace, pulling the girl snugly against her. “We don’t have to do anything you know,” Harrow said softly, her mouth tucked against Gideon’s throat. 

In response, Gideon, ever the brat, fell back against the bed, pulling Harrow on top of her. The Ninth nun yelped and she clung on even tighter. “Alright there twilit princess?” she asked, rubbing soothing circles into Harrow’s back.

“At least offer me the courtesy of a warning next time you throw me about!” Harrow snarled, her hands fisting into the front of Gideon’s now very disheveled shirt. 

Gideon laughed a little, propping herself up on one elbow to sneak another kiss. She couldn't quite make it to Harrow’s lips, and instead settled on her neck, earning an unexpected moan from the Reverend Daughter. She quirked up an eyebrow and looked back at Harrow. “Shut up! You were making just as many awful noises when I had my knee against your groin!”

Gideon hissed. “Now why do you gotta word that in the most unsexy way possible?”

Harrow glared at her, shimmying herself down so her face was pressed against Gideon’s clavicle. For revenge, she sucked a terribly erotic bruise into the base of the princess’ neck, earning a panting, breathless groan from the victim. “See?” Harrow asked smugly as she pulled her mouth away. “You make far more embarrassing sounds.”

Gideon laughed heartily, her brain a mix of hormones and pure adoration. “I can live with being the loud one. Now what do I have to do to get your mouth back on me?”

Harrow’s dark eyes went pure supernova as she slid back to the buttons that had given her such trouble just a couple minutes before. In an aggressively hot move, she bit the god damned things until they unfastened! Bit them! Gideon felt like she lost her mind in the best way possible. Groaning, she let her head fall back against the bed, feeling Harrow work slowly down until she ran out of buttons. 

“May I…” Harrow asked, nudging the shirtsleeves aside. 

Gideon nodded ferociously, sitting up in a fit of passion and pulling the damned thing off of herself like it was radioactive. Harrow bounced in her lap, holding back a smile at her enthusiastic reaction. Once Gideon balled up and tossed the offending garment away, she nuzzled the necromancer closer. “Your turn.”

Harrow bit the inside of her cheek, clearly more than a little nervous. Gideon realized without the nightgown she would effectively be in her skivvies. Attempting to remedy this, she nudged Harrow to the side a bit, pulling off her own trousers with military efficiency. “Here! This way, we’re even.”

Harrow looked to her side a bit. “Actually, you would still have the advantage.”

Gideon felt a little confused. Then like a bolt of lightning, it hit her. “You mean you’re completely butt naked under there?”

Harrow slapped her side. “Don’t say it like that!” She shrieked.

Gideon grinned. “Fine. You’re unclothed. Free of underwear. Breezy. Subject to quite a bit of embarrassment should an ambitious bit of wind find you unaware.”

Harrow glared at her so hard Gideon was beginning to worry her eyeballs would fall out from the sheer malice. “It's more comfortable when trying to fall asleep!”

Gideon looked with interest down the now gaping neckline. Harrow gasped and crossed both arms. “Y’know if you’re feeling nervous, I don’t need you to get fully naked. Not that I’d object to a little skin on skin,” She said with a wriggle of her eyebrows.

Harrow huffed. “Do you think I’m so childish that I cannot strip?”

Gideon laughed, leaning back on the bed once again, arms crossed under her head as she met the blackened gaze of her lady love. “It’s up to you. I’m enjoying the view either way.”

Harrow seemed to take that as a challenge, and in a fit of bravery, tore off the nightgown, watching Gideon the entire time. 

Her mouth went dry at the sight. Harrow was thoroughly naked, her arms crossed over her breasts in what was clearly trying to be a sign of self assurance. Gideon stared dumbly for a full minute at the girl sitting astride on top of her. Every inch of her skin was copper and beautiful, covered in little bruises and goosebumps. She could see the vague outline of her bone corslet marking the skin of her stomach and couldn't wait to kiss every inch of it. 

“Harrow?”

“Yes?”

“Lay down on the bed for me. Please.”

Harrow looked stunned, nerves wrecking havoc through her unpainted face, forehead already furrowing viciously. Gideon gave her a minute, taking a deep breath herself. Finally, she complied, gently setting herself down on her back, right next to Gideon. Her arms still covered her chest in a mad dash attempt at modesty, but Gideon swore she could see…

“Wait. Do you have bones in your boobs?”

Harrow glared at the ceiling, finally laying her hands at her sides. “Its for emergencies! If I were ever cornered by an enemy without my jewelry or spare bone chips.”

Gideon grinned ferociously, leaning over Harrow. “So like. You get attacked by some baddy. First thing you do is grab your tits?”

Harrow groaned, throwing one arm over her eyes. “Why did I think this was a good idea?” She mumbled to herself.

Gideon cackled, setting herself on Harrow’s hips. “Because you think I’m hot. And I think you’re hot. So we’re gonna be hot together.”

That had her lips twitching up into a smile. “You’ve still got your underwear on,” Harrow pointed out.

“For the sake of equity my one-true-love, I will get naked. It's very noble of me, dontcha think?” Gideon asked, pulling up the elastic of her bandeau.

Harrow lifted up her arm a smidge, peaking at Gideon as she stripped off the last vestiges of modesty she had. Her eyes zoned in on Gideon’s breasts and she couldn't help but feel a little pompous. Gideon liked all boobs, but she especially liked her own. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Harrow’s. “You showed me yours so I showed you mine.”

Harrow unabashedly smiled then, leaning up to kiss the princess again. It had only been a few minutes but Gideon felt as if she had been dying of thirst in a desert, only to stumble upon a fresh spring. Their naked skin brushed together and Gideon nearly died of happiness right there. Feeling thoroughly encouraged, Gideon let her hand wander between them, feeling the soft, tender flesh of Harrow’s breast, pierced through with a needle of bone. She gasped against Gideon’s mouth, weaving her hands into her bright red hair yet again.

Gideon felt like she was on top of the fuck mothering universe. Breaking from Harrow’s mouth, she kissed down her smooth neck, passed her chest, until she was firmly eye level with Harrow’s nipples. She looked up for permission and was met with a staggered nod, the bone magicians face alight with trepidation. 

Gideon sighed against the silky skin, kissing the gentle rise of flesh. All those years of titty mags were proved right in this instance. Boobs really were the best. Impatient with all her antics, Harrow pulled Gideon by the hair, forcing her closer. “I am not made of glass,” Harrow said succinctly. 

Gideon laughed against her favorite necro’s chest. “Right, sorry. Just relishing the first feeling of titty I’ve ever had.”

Harrow relaxed a little, falling back against the bed once again. Her legs came up, cautiously wrapping around Gideon’s waist. Feeling very emboldened, she set her mouth back on Harrow once again, sucking the hard bead of the nipple into her mouth.

Harrow made a devastatingly soft ‘oh!’ sound, the legs around Gideon tightening just a fraction. She groped wildly for her head, finding one of Harrow’s hands and patting it. She got the memo and released her hair, letting Gideon lace their fingers together. Conscious that the other breast was getting no attention, she switched, enjoying greatly the feeling of the bead of bone rolling back and forth on her tongue. 

Glancing up at her face, Gideon was struck by the beauty she beheld. Harrow was red and squirming, tiny noises escaping her perfect mouth. Without warning, she abandoned her breast and pulled Harrow into a kiss. She gasped against her tongue, then tugged her closer. Gideon couldn't remember ever feeling so happy as she did in this moment, just her and Harrow, skin against… mostly skin.

“Take off your underwear,” Harrow demanded in a breathless pant. 

Gideon happily complied, bringing herself up to her knees and badly attempting to shimmy out of her shorts. Harrow leaned on her elbows, watching her with a critical eye until finally she had enough. “On your back.”

She plopped down, legs astride as Harrow sat up, pulling her undies off and throwing them over her shoulder. Gideon sort of felt like she should be embarrassed. Harrow’s gaze was molten hot, eying her snatch like she was about to devour it whole… which, if all went well, might just happen.

“You’ve even got freckles here,” Harrow said with wonder, eying the dots that littered Gideon’s... Well, everywhere. 

She had no idea why her being naked and sucking on Harrow’s teet wasn’t embarrassing, but this revelation had her burning red. “It's genetic!” She blurted out.

Harrow raised an eyebrow, then tilted her head as she watched Gideon shudder under her gaze. “May I touch you?”

Gideon nodded so hard her teeth knocked around in her head. Ever so slowly, Harrow slinked down her body, examining each bit of her with a critical eye. She felt a bit like she was under a microscope. But like… A sexy microscope. With a hot scientist lady.

As her mind wandered into similes, Harrow peeled apart her thighs, cold air on her pussy earning a hiss from Gideon. Harrow looked up, alarmed. “I’m good! Keep going!” Gideon told her assuredly.

Harrow nodded, taking a deep breath then leaning down until she was eye to freaking clit with her vagina. Gideon wondered briefly if she was going to pull out some flimsy and draw herself up a diagram. Gentle, probing fingers came up to touch Gideon and she reflexively squeezed. Harrow watched the muscles react with amazement as she ran her index and middle fingers along her slit, watching for the most minuet of contractions. When she grazed Gideon’s clit, she bit back a whimper. 

Harrow noticed though. Harrow noticed fucking everything, Gideon thought. She met her eyes, black on gold, and pressed her fingers against the sweet spot. Her hips bucked up involuntarily and Harrow smiled, increasing the pressure. 

“There we are,” Harrow sighed, resting her head on one of Gideon’s muscular thighs. “You’re so noisy.”

“You want me to be quiet? Now?” Gideon asked breathlessly. 

Harrow hummed. “No. I would like to put my mouth on you.”

She felt her own mouth open and close as Harrow continued her languid strokes, seemingly unconcerned with Gideon’s mind break. “Okay!” She yelped.

Harrow kissed the inside of her thigh, then pressed her mouth to Gideon’s hot, sticky folds. She experimentally poked and prodded with her tongue, mapping every area of her pussy like she would be tested on it the second they landed on the Ninth. Gideon whimpered fretfully as Harrow finally, finally returned to her clit.

She felt the pressure inside her coil as Harrow drew unknowable patterns across her cunt. Gideon propped herself up on her elbows, debating whether or not it would be considered cool to grind down against her mouth. Before she could ask, Harrow pulled her mouth off. “Touch your clit, I’m eating you out.”

Gideon sucked in a breath. “Holy shit you’re perfect.”

Harrow smiled, bringing her mouth back down. It felt kinda weird, Gideon thought, but in a good way. She’d only ever had her own fingers up there, now Harrow was tongue diving in her cunt and- fuck it was good. It was clumsy and weird and dumb and good. Gideon scrubbed ruthlessly at her clit, chasing after the waves of tension wracking through her while Harrow licked her within an inch of her life. 

Gideon felt her fingers knock against Harrow as she upped the pace, desperate for an orgasm just so she could touch Harrow sooner. She must have noticed this, as Gideon felt the pressure inside her increase. The hands that had a vice on her thighs might have bruised if it wasn't a scrawny necro doing the man-handling. Gideon felt Harrow’s head bump up against her as she knocked her fingers out of the way, latching her mouth back onto her clit. 

Gideon panted, letting herself flop backwards as Harrow brought her to a restless finish, licking her sloppily all the while. She felt breathless and weird, still somehow wired even though that orgasm made her limbs feel like jelly. Harrow pushed herself up, sitting on Gideon’s hips. “Was that acceptable?” She asked, like she didn't have cum on her mouth. 

Rather than respond, Gideon pulled her back down for a kiss. This was also super weird, as Gideon had never thought to try tasting her own spunk. On Harrow, it didn't taste half bad. Which got her curious. “Can I try that on you?”

Harrow shifted above her, suddenly awkward. “You don’t need to.”

Gideon laughed, flipping her over onto the mattress. “Course I do. What kinda divine ruler would I be if I didn't serve my people.” She said, settling in between Harrow’s thighs.

Harrow squawked indignantly at this remark. “If you even think of doing this with one of the other heirs I will send you to the River personally.”

Gideon laughed, pulling Harrow up until she was nearly curled over herself, her legs thrown over Gideon’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I didn't spend my childhood obsessing over any other weirdo necromancer. Promise.”

Harrow wiggled nervously in her grasp, tiny thighs so thin Gideon was pretty sure her biceps had a bigger circumference. “What are you waiting for? Do something!”

Gideon snickered. “As my lady wishes!”

With great and terrible reverence, Gideon stuck her face right between the necromancer’s legs. Harrow was wet as hell, and smelled curiously good. Gideon made a long stroke with the flat of her tongue along her entire pussy, earning a pained ‘fuck- Fuck!’ from the woman below her. 

Happily, this is when Gideon realized at this angle she could watch Harrow’s face. The whole of her was burning hot, hot, hot and her face was screwed up in the most delightful look of both concentration and horny rage. Gideon watched as she lavished kisses on every available patch of skin. Harrow wriggled against her, trying and failing to increase contact.

“Relax, lemme take care of you,” Gideon said with a smile, turning to press a kiss into her inner thigh.

“I would if you stopped teasing!”

“Yeah?” Gideon asked. “What do you want then?”

Harrow groaned, angry and indignant. Gideon was happy to wait all day for her to voice a complaint, just tonging at every warm, wet bit of her. Harrow put both hands over her face and mumbled something. “What’s up?” Gideon asked cheerily.

Harrow glared at her. “My clit. Suck it.”

Gideon felt all of her insides go to compete mush. “On it!” She said with an embarrassing amount of squeak. Harrow looked excessively pleased with herself.

Refusing on principle to let her win, Gideon got back to work. Quickly, she found the little bundle of nerves, swollen and absolutely perfect. Harrow nearly howled upon first contact with Gideon’s lips, which she enjoyed very much. Now on a mission to hear her make that ghastly noise again, Gideon let the tip of her tongue run across the bud. She tried to recall that one issue of Seductive Servants of the Seventh, the one where the maid Gloriosa had to learn to serve her mistress in all places. It was so very helpful, what with the diagrams and all, but Gideon could not focus on anything but the taste of Harrow.

She didn't seem to mind much though. The Reverend Daughter writhed against her, clutching fruitlessly at anything at all around her, since Gideon had put herself so out of reach. Finally, she decided on her breasts, grasping the twin swells with both hands, uncaring if she tugged on the bit of bone in between them. 

The look of her, twisted up and groping herself in agonizing horniness, made Gideon want to get on her knees and worship. Which, technically, she kinda already was. Step one complete! Now onto step two, make Harrow cum so hard her noises could be heard from outside the system.

Gideon took to her task with great pleasure, dragging her hand from one thigh to Harrow’s cunt, brushing lightly against her entrance. Harrow jumped at the sensation. “One finger,” she demanded.

“Ever thought about saying please, Bone Empress?” Gideon asked, dragging her fingers lightly through the slick folds.

“Ever thought that your mouth has better things to be doing right now?” Harrow shot back.

Well hard to argue with that logic. 

Gideon slid one finger inside her, the muscles tightening beautifully around the single digit. Slowly, she thrusted in and out, studying Harrow’s face for approval. Her eyes were scrunched close, as if everything was just a bit too much. Gideon relaxed her pace a bit, focusing her lips on Harrow’s clit. Once she felt her relax, Gideon picked up the speed once more.

There was a chorus of ‘Fuck!’ ‘Dammit!’ and her favorite ‘Gideon!’ as she doggedly tasted every inch of her. Harrow was panting now, her skin glowing with sweat. Her back was lifting off of the bed, and Gideon figured now was the time to really bring her a-game.

Gideon licked with a new-found ferocity as Harrow panted, listening as ‘Shit!’ and ‘Hell!’s turned into ‘Gideon! Gideon! Gideon!’ Her finger curled inside of Harrow, brushing against a spot that had Harrow nearly launching herself off the bed. With a final “Gideon!” Harrow came gloriously against her fingers, giving Gideon a heretofore unknown sense of arrogance. 

“Wipe that look off your face,” Harrow said breathlessly, her chest rising and falling as she came down.

“Hey! You call that pillow talk?” Gideon asked, gently putting Harrow’s legs down onto the bed. 

She hissed and Gideon almost lost it, thinking she’d accidentally broken something in the delicate necro’s bones. “My foot was asleep,” Harrow grumbled.

Gideon laughed, tucking herself into the bone adept's neck. “Sorry ‘bout that. Worth it though.”

Harrow hummed in what Gideon really hoped was agreement. Then sat up suddenly. “What? What’s wrong?” Gideon asked.

“This room is supposed to be sterilized for Septimus,” Harrow said, terror encroaching on her voice.

Gideon let out a laugh so loud she was afraid O.G. might come in the room and ask her what was so funny. “Oh man, she’ll love that.”

Harrow swatted her. “It's not funny!”

“It's kinda funny.”

“She could die because we exposed her to our- fluids.”

Hearing Harrow say ‘fluids’ made her break out in giggles all over again. Harrow crossed her arms, staring Gideon down, just waiting for her to finish.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m good!” Gideon said, wiping the tears out of her eyes. 

Harrow rolled her eyes. “Monster.”

Gideon laughed, pulling her closer. “I’m the monster you just boned down with, baby. Get it? Bo-” 

“Finish that sentence and I throw you out of the airlock.”

Gideon laughed, pressing her face into Harrow’s black as night hair. She noticed along the ends there was some curl, and wondered what it looked like just a bit longer. 

Before she could wonder any more, the ship shuddered. Harrow and Gideon looked at each other, then launched off the bed into their clothes. They looked disheveled as all hell, but Gideon didn't really care so much right now. Harrow pulled a tiny mirror and a stick of grease paint out of her pocket as the two ran to the front where Gideon the First was sitting casually.

“It seems your Marshall Crux isnt allowing us to land.” Gideon (Day One Release) said casually, his hand sitting on his belly and feet kicked up as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Harrow grunted, pushing him aside. Gideon had never in her life seen O.G. be so compliant. “What are you gonna do?” She asked as Harrow took the frequency channeler, plugging in numbers.

“It’s simple. We’re going to break in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe Notes:
> 
> Yes I gave Harrow nipple piercings again. WHAT ABOUT IT!!??!?!?!?!?! 
> 
> Big shout out to GTF for being not only a v cool dad but also a total bro who didn't interrupt Gideon gettin' some. What a king.
> 
> How did we all like a lil Griddlehark first time???? Don't worry, if you didn't like it I'll only cry a little ;(
> 
> I hope you've all been having a lovely time with this dumb fic of mine, we've got just another couple chapters to go then we're done D: I'm v proud of myself, this is the longest I've ever stuck with a multi-chap fic :3 its all that griddlehark true love that fuels the brain :3
> 
> P.S. Anyone got more Phyrra thoughts :D????????????

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked my work and wanna find me elsewhere please check me out on twitter @moonblastbitch!


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